THEODORA. 


E,  S    H   E,   K 

THE   OPPRESSOR 


BY 

GERTRUDE  POTTER  DANIELS 


ILLUSTRATIONS  BY  G.  C.  WIDNEY 


CHICAGO 
THE   MADISON    BOOK   CO. 

PUBLISHERS 


Eshek— The  Oppressor. 

Copyright,  1902,  by  Rand,  McNally  &  Co. 

First  edition  ;  all  rights  reserved. 

Published  by 
The  Madison  Book  Co. 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

THEODORA, Frontispiece 

HE  ADVANCED  CAUTIOUSLY  TO  MEREDITH'S  SIDE,        ...  48 

"  YOU  POOR  CHILD  !  YOU  POOR  LITTLE  CHILD  !"       ...  96 

"  GENTLEMEN,"  HE  SAID,  "  MY  SISTER," 160 

HE  FELL  FLAT,  ALMOST  UNCONSCIOUS, IQ2 

THE  PAIR  TURNED,  ADVANCING  ARM  IN  ARM 240 

SHE  STOOD  AT  HIS  SIDE,  A  VISION  REALIZED,      ....  288 

THERE  WAS  A  CHANGE,  AN  EVIDENCE  OF  LIFE,          .        .        .  336 


2228446 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 


CHAPTER  I. 

It  was  Wednesday.  Promptly  at  six  o'clock,  accord- 
ing to  his  usual  custom,  Jarvis  Kennedy  presented 
himself  at  the  cheap  restaurant  where  he  dined  nightly 
for  fifteen  cents.  The  food  was  badly  cooked,  but 
steaming  hot  and  sufficient  in  quantity  to  satisfy  the 
boy's  hunger.  Usually  it  was  the  one  hour  out  of  the 
twenty-four  he  looked  forward  to. 

To-night,  however,  he  had  little  thought  for  what 
he  ate  or  for  the  comfort  the  meal  brought  him. 
The  truth  was,  he  had  had  a  hard  day  of  it.  In  fact, 
ever  since  the  Saturday  before,  when  his  period  of 
service  at  the  factory  ended,  things  had  been  hard. 

He  found  no  work;  he  suffered  bitterly  from  the 
cold.  From  early  morning  until  late  at  night  he  wan- 
dered aimlessly  about  the  streets  looking  for  a  place, 
trying  to  keep  warm,  lamentably  conscious  that  two 
dollars  and  a  half  was  all  that  stood  between  him 
and  absolute  want. 


8  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

Then  the  sudden  change  in  the  weather  was  a  bad 
thing  for  him.  It  had  come  on  raw  and  wet,  with 
every  indication  of  a  protracted  period  of  gloom. 
Another  week  would  see  him  literally  turned  out  in 
the  street  with  winter  at  hand.  Never  before  had 
his  prospects  been  so  dubious. 

Perched  on  a  high  stool  before  the  counter,  Jarvis 
glanced  out  through  the  window  every  little  while, 
frowning  at  the  weather.  It  was  very  comfortable 
in  there.  Jarvis  could  almost  fancy  it  was  summer 
again.  For  the  first  time  all  day,  a  pleasant  warmth 
pervaded  the  boy's  body.  He  swallowed  his  food 
slowly  that  he  might  remain  inside  as  long  as  pos- 
sible. The  heat  from  a  stove  crammed  full  of  coal, 
maintaining  the  restaurant  at  a  stifling  temperature, 
made  him  drowsy,  and,  by  degrees,  the  only  sensation 
that  remained  to  him  was  dread  of  the  cold. 

Never  had  he  so  hated  to  leave  a  place.  He  could 
hear  the  wind  outside  whistling  and  roaring,  rising 
into  a  regular  tempest.  A  fine,  cold  drizzle,  almost 
a  sleet,  had  set  in,  beating  sharply  against  the  window- 
panes.  The  night  was  dreary,  cheerless,  desolate  be- 
yond words. 

At  last  when  Jarvis  could  no  longer  make  the  least 
pretense  of  eating,  he  arose  with  an  effort,  paid  his 
fifteen  cents,  buttoned  up  his  coat  and  left  the  restau- 
rant. It  required  all  the  boy's  strength  to  walk 
against  the  storm.  He  slanted  his  head  to  meet  the 
sudden,  sharp  gusts  of  wind,  and  before  he  had  gone  a 
block  he  was  wet  through. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  9 

On  and  on  he  walked  with  no  destination  in  view, 
nothing  to  look  forward  to  better  than  a  night  at  the 
lodging-house  and  a  scant  breakfast  picked  up  any- 
where. He  was  cold,  miserably  cold,  and  wretchedly 
unhappy.  His  feet  were  swollen  and  sore  from  the 
miles  of  tramping  he  had  already  done,  and  all  at  once 
a  kind  of  wrath  possessed  the  boy.  There  was  some- 
thing unjust  about  life.  He  had  never  been  lazy, 
never  spent  his  earnings  in  tobacco  or  liquor.  Was 
it  fair  that,  doing  the  best  he  could,  he  was  still  left 
like  this,  with  the  collar  of  misery  strapped  about  his 
neck? 

"  I'll  just  have  to  hurry  over  to  the  lodging-house 
and  turn  in,"  he  told  himself  finally,  his  teeth  chatter- 
ing with  the  cold.  But  suddenly,  on  raising  his  eyes, 
Jarvis  found  himself  before  the  offices  of  the  X.  &  Y. 
Railroad. 

The  entire  front  was  one  huge  window  of  plate- 
glass  and  in  the  center  hung  a  giant  poster,  flaming 
with  vivid  greens  and  yellows, — the  picture  of  an 
orange  grove.  It  was  a  fine  thing  to  see  on  such  a 
night.  Jarvis  edged  his  way  nearer,  forgetting  the 
cold  in  his  desire  to  read  what  this  advertisement  re- 
counted. 

It  announced  an  excursion  to  the  West.  A  trip 
from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific  Coast  in  good  cars, 
in  good  running  time,  and  personally  conducted,  for 
the  nominal  price  of  $35  one  way,  $50  the  round  trip. 
The  route  was  traced  on  the  white  map  with  heavy 


10  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

blue  lines.  Jarvis  could  follow  the  journey  from  the 
moment  of  leaving  until  the  train  landed  its  passengers 
at  either  San  Francisco  or  Los  Angeles.  The  adver- 
tisement gave  all  the  details,  ending  with  the  words: 
"  The  great  West  with  its  chances  in  every  branch  of 
industry  lies  waiting  for  YOU.  From  the  ideal  work 
of  raising  luscious  fruits  to  the  heavier  labor  of  min- 
ing, no  department  of  labor  is  denied  either  man  or 
woman.  Fortunes  are  won  daily;  a  competence  is 
assured  to  all.  Take  this  chance — the  one  chance  of 
your  life,  perhaps — of  getting  into  that  Paradise, 
California." 

Jarvis  read  and  re-read.  The  very  sound  of  the 
words  almost  reconciled  him  to  the  freezing  wind. 
Although  he  was  shivering  all  over,  his  nose  blue,  his 
hands  stiff,  still  he  stood  gazing  at  that  one  little  orange 
grove,  picturing  the  land  of  eternal  sunshine,  in  a 
very  ecstasy  at  the  mere  thought  of  such  a  climate. 

It  was  very  quiet.  The  streets  seemed  to  be  dead. 
The  storm  had  drawn  a  pall  of  silence  over  the  en- 
tire city.  But  Jarvis  held  to  the  place  before  the 
window  in  a  veritable  dream.  It  was  like  being  trans- 
planted suddenly  from  the  middle  of  the  city  that  he  so 
feared  and  hated,  away  to  a  distant  corner  of  the  earth 
where  the  sun  was  always  shining  and  the  flowers 
always  in  bloom.  His  momentary  revolt  was  gone. 
A  certain  courage  came  to  the  boy.  It  was  like  a 
picture  of  heaven.  He  could  have  watched  forever. 

All  at  once  he  gave  a  groan.     His  legs  had  become 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  11 

so  numbed  that  when  he  moved,  sharp  pains  shot  up 
and  down  from  his  toes  to  his  waist. 

"  I'll  have  to  be  getting  back  or  I'll  freeze  here  in 
very  sight  of  California,"  he  said,  trying  to  smile,  but 
his  laugh  fell  to  a  sigh.  His  head  whirled  and  a  great 
grief  lay  heavy  on  his  heart. 

Morning  and  night,  for  years  past,  Jarvis  had 
dreamed  of  an  existence  other  than  the  one  he  led; 
something  beyond  drudgery,  constant  toil,  and  a  con- 
tinual fight  to  stave  off  immediate  starvation.  But  it 
seemed  as  though  the  harder  he  worked,  the  deeper  he 
sank  into  the  life  that  was  crushing  hope  out  of  him. 
Now,  almost  penniless,  with  no  prospect  of  a  position, 
friendless,  and  alone,  he  was  worse  off  than  ever  be- 
fore,— literally  at  the  very  end  of  the  end.  Was  he 
after  all  to  die  on  the  pavement,  to  drop  down  dead 
of  starvation  in  the  streets? 

He  hurried  on  his  way  panting  with  exhaustion, 
the  wind  lashing  his  face.  The  desolation  that  sur- 
rounded him  was  complete.  No  one  could  have 
recognized  the  street  in  the  guise  of  such  utter  deser- 
tion. There  was  something  ghostly  in  the  silence  and 
emptiness  and  the  gray  walls  and  flickering  white  gas- 
lights that  came  and  went  under  the  shroud  of  rain 
like  grotesque  shadows. 

He  walked  faster.  By  the  time  he  reached  the 
lodging-house  he  was  stiff  and  sore  and  almost  stupe- 
fied with  the  cold.  Before  he  could  mount  the  long 
flight  of  stairs  to  his  room,  he  was  obliged  to  warm 


12  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

himself  at  the  office  stove.  Then  he  went  up  stiffly, 
step  by  step,  to  the  box  of  a  place  where  he  slept, 
grateful  for  any  shelter. 

Outside  the  rain  was  pouring  down,  sweeping 
against  the  windows  in  sheets  of  water.  Jarvis  crept 
under  the  blanket  with  half  his  clothes  on,  drawing 
his  feet  under  him  to  get  them  warm.  Then,  huddled 
up,  his  eyes  wide  open,  he  began  to  turn  certain  ideas 
over  in  his  mind.  Something  had  to  be  done.  There 
were  no  two  ways  about  it.  He  could  no  longer  con- 
tinue to  live  as  he  was  living.  He  was  almost  worn 
down  by  privation  and  the  nerve-racking  conscious- 
ness of  an  ever-present  struggle  against  odds  too  great 
to  be  conquered.  There  remained  to  him  nothing  be- 
yond a  change  of  clothing,  an  old  telescope,  an  over- 
coat worn  thin,  and  the  two  dollars  and  a  half. 
When  that  money  was  gone,  how  should  he  eat?  He 
might  do  without  one  suit,  but  that  was  all  he  had  to 
dispose  of.  Already,  during  many  hours  of  each  day, 
hunger  gripped  him.  Even  if  he  managed  without 
a  bed,  sleeping  out  of  doors  in  any  shelter  that  was 
available,  he  must  find  a  way  to  food.  It  was  a  fight 
against  an  arch  enemy. 

Terribly  uneasy,  all  sleep  forsook  the  boy.  All  the 
dreams  of  what  he  meant  to  make  out  of  his  life 
rose  to  mock  him.  Never  had  he  believed  that 
the  pursuit  of  poverty,  begun  when  he  was  scarcely 
more  than  a  child,  could  last  so  long.  It  was  as  if 
some  fate  had  set  a  tireless  watch  over  him,  preventing 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  13 

his  escape  from  the  hounding,  haunting  terror.  More 
than  once  it  seemed  as  though  luck  had  come,  but  at 
the  very  instant  when  assured  that  now  he  could 
throw  off  the  fetters  encircling  him  and  his  heart 
warmed  with  hope,  suddenly  something  happened. 
All  in  a  breath  poverty  closed  in  on  him  again,  fero- 
cious, implacable,  triumphant. 

So  far  Jarvis  Kennedy  had  accepted  what  came  to 
him  with  the  stoicism  of  a  will  that  would  not  be  con- 
quered. Even  to  himself  he  acknowledged  no  de- 
feat. Moreover,  Jarvis  had  obtained  for  himself  a 
fairly  good  education,  in  his  attempts  to  improve  him- 
self, even  keeping  in  touch  with  current  events,  study- 
ing the  broader  interests  of  life.  By  degrees  he  began 
to  have  a  hobby.  On  every  hand  he  saw  and  heard  of 
the  great  warring  factions,  capital  and  labor.  He 
read  eagerly  everything  on  the  subject  that  came  to 
his  notice.  He  began  to  be  almost  morbidly  inter- 
ested, hearing  in  that  one  theme  the  voice  of  the  entire 
nation.  In  a  vague  way  he  caught  notes  resounding 
from  each  side  in  a  vast  undertone  of  discord  that  must 
some  day  unite  in  a  glorious  paean  of  harmony. 

This  question,  gigantic  as  it  was,  became  his  per- 
sistent thought.  Occasionally,  shutting  from  view  the 
conditions  that  surrounded  him,  he  would  picture  to 
himself  an  idealistic  existence  where  a  man  was 
judged  for  his  worth,  not  his  wealth.  He  liked  to 
believe,  in  a  vast  way  which  he  lacked  words  to  ex- 
press, in  a  world  governed  by  justness  and  brotherly 


14  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

love;  where  the  inhabitants  worked  together  in  a 
single  great  purpose;  where  no  man  lost  his  individu- 
ality, nor  yet  forgot  his  obligation  to  the  whole ;  where 
any  resort  to  violence  was  unheard  of  and  personal 
enmity  unknown. 

Slowly  Jarvis'  ambition  widened.  He  saw  himself 
at  the  head  of  such  a  colony.  He  went  over  and  over 
the  scheme,  in  his  imagination,  working  it  out  in  de- 
tail and  at  great  length.  It  was  not  in  any  sense 
a  sentimentality.  Instead,  it  was  a  complex  but  logi- 
cal result  of  his  cruel  struggle  with  life.  Young  as 
he  was,  Jarvis  had  battled  for  years  to  obtain  the  barest 
necessities.  There  were  no  self-denials  he  had  not 
practiced,  no  privations  he  had  not  known.  But 
strangely  enough,  the  boy's  sensitive  temperament 
and  delicate  refinement,  intuitive,  natural,  descended 
upon  him  direct  from  his  mother,  had  not  been  crushed 
out  by  the  sordidness  of  poverty.  Instead,  both  charac- 
teristics thrived,  nurtured  by  those  very  dreams  that 
came  to  him. 

For  years  the  West  had  opened  out  before  him  as 
the  land  for  such  an  experiment.  He  told  himself 
that  there  all  the  conditions  were  right  for  a  begin- 
ning— a  founding  of  an  empire  where  broad  theories 
and  advanced  methods  should  prevail.  It  was  essen- 
tially a  country  of  great  beauty,  a  land  where  large 
possibilities  opened  up  before  hardy,  honest  toil. 

All  this  unrolled  itself  in  his  thoughts,  and  in  a 
vague,  nameless  way  he  saw  himself  going  hand  in 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  15 

hand  with  this  era  of  promise;  a  sort  of  host  on  a 
colossal  estate.  By  degrees  the  dividing  line  between 
romance  and  reality  became  finely  drawn. 

But,  however  much  he  lived  in  romance,  realism 
stalked  persistently  by  his  side,  haunting  every  foot- 
step. The  exaltation  of  conquest,  the  vision  of  a  new 
movement,  collapsed  in  face  of  the  grim,  unlovely  bat- 
tle of  life.  For  all  his  vast  ambitions,  he  was  at  the 
very  lowest  ebb  of  existence ;  gratifying  the  brute  de- 
mands of  warmth,  clothing,  food.  Between  him  and 
his  dreams  these  actualities  crowded  themselves,  dis- 
figuring by  their  very  presence  the  roseate  outlines  of 
the  future  he  had  given  himself  the  task  of  bringing 
into  light  and  life. 

As  he  lay  in  his  bed  staring  wide-eyed  into  the 
heavy  darkness,  the  wording  on  that  poster  in  the 
railroad  office  came  to  him.  Every  sentence  twitted 
him  with  his  hopeless  ambitions.  An  abrupt  chance 
for  going  West  had  come  to  him;  an  excursion  rate 
cheap  beyond  anything  he  had  ever  thought  of  had 
presented  itself.  But,  for  all  that,  never  had  the  trip 
been  farther  beyond  his  reach.  The  sum  of  $35  might 
by  care  be  saved  in  a  year's  time.  Unless  Jarvis  met 
with  an  unexpected  piece  of  luck  he  despaired  of  pos- 
sessing it  sooner.  It  seemed  as  though  one  great  op- 
portunity of  his  life,  of  his  emancipation,  had  leaped 
within  easy  distance  only  to  vanish  again  before  his 
very  eyes  while  he  stood  by  powerless. 

Morning  came,  and  with  it  a  grim  courage  born  of 


16  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

despair.  He  was  up  and  dressed  before  daylight. 
The  rain  had  stopped,  but  everything  was  cold  and 
gray  with  gloom.  The  streets  glistened  with  mois- 
ture. The  air,  keen  and  penetrating,  reeked  with 
dampness.  Jarvis  decided,  after  an  early  breakfast, 
that  he  would  go  again  direct  to  the  X.  &  Y.  office  to 
make  sure  that  he  had  read  the  announcement  correctly. 

Once  before  that  window  the  boy  uttered  an  excla- 
mation. He  had  not  only  read  the  advertisement  cor- 
rectly, but  actually  knew  it  by  heart,  word  for  word. 

"  I  swallowed  it  whole,  that's  about  the  size  of  it," 
he  exclaimed,  surprised  at  himself. 

One  thing  only  had  he  skipped, — the  date  of  the 
departure.  With  a  sudden  sinking  of  his  heart,  the 
boy  discovered  the  train  was  scheduled  to  leave  Satur- 
day, the  twentieth,  at  nine  o'clock  P.  M.  That  meant 
the  following  Saturday.  This  was  Thursday. 
There  were  three  days,  including  the  day  already  be- 
gun and  the  Saturday  of  the  start, — a  short  time  to 
earn  the  price  of  the  fare. 

He  left  the  window,  his  mind  flaming  with  a  thou- 
sand impossible  schemes,  an  undercurrent  of  despera- 
tion working  at  his  heart. 

The  streets  were  no  longer  empty,  as  on  the  night 
before,  but  filled  with  passers-by,  striding  along  rap- 
idly, wrapped  to  the  chin  in  heavy  coats.  Workmen 
shuffled  along  in  worn-out  shoes,  swinging  dinner-pails, 
looking  very  purple  with  the  cold.  Two  masons  with 
no  overcoats,  their  caps  pulled  well  over  their  ears, 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  17 

passed,  talking  in  loud  voices,  gesticulating  with  large 
gestures.  A  white-faced  girl  followed  close  after,  her 
hands  tucked  under  her  arms  for  warmth.  Clerks, 
cash  boys,  day  laborers,  a  regular  army  tramped  along. 
Cabs,  omnibuses,  heavy  drays  covered  the  pavement. 
At  every  moment  the  clamor  increased.  The  march 
of  the  workers  continued.  There  was  no  merrymak- 
ing in  the  air.  The  women  and  girls  trotted  by,  half 
running  to  make  up  lost  time;  the  men  silent,  sullen, 
jostled  others  out  of  their  way,  striding  along  with 
their  tools  strapped  across  their  shoulders,  some  carry- 
ing their  clothes  folded  under  their  arms.  Most  of 
them  were  desperately  poor,  but  all  of  them  had  work. 

Jarvis  was  terribly  oppressed.  If  only  he  had 
work!  Suddenly  there  was  a  diversion.  Two  girls 
crossing  the  street  had  been  almost  knocked  down  by 
the  horses  of  an  omnibus.  Instantly  there  was  a  com- 
motion. Voices  shouted,  there  was  the  confusion  of 
calls  and  oaths.  One  of  the  girls  fainted  and  was 
helped  into  a  drug  store;  the  other  very  white,  trem- 
bling all  over,  straightened  her  skirts,  put  on  her  hat 
and  resumed  her  way  speechless  with  fright,  but  de- 
termined not  to  be  late.  After  the  trouble  was  well 
over,  two  policemen  appeared,  assuming  a  command- 
ing position  and  scowling  heavily. 

The  groups  of  workers  were  thinning  out.  In  their 
places  came  the  merry  crowds  of  shoppers;  well  fed, 
well  dressed,  very  busy,  making  their  way  in  and  out 
of  the  stores.  And  all  day  long  the  procession  would 
keep  up;  the  streets  mad  with  a  swarming  multitude. 


18  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

Jarvis  went  on  and  on,  stopping  now  and  then  at 
some  congested  corner,  waiting  a  chance  to  resume  his 
walk.  He  was  stooped  with  fatigue,  pinched  with 
hunger,  and  his  head  swam.  It  was  the  longest, 
dreariest,  hardest  day  he  ever  passed.  At  dark  he 
crawled  into  his  miserable  bed,  dog-tired,  hopelessly 
discouraged,  feeling  that  he  was  facing  utter  annihila- 
tion. 

Friday  dawned  clear;  the  wind  was  milder.  Jar- 
vis  resumed  the  old  tramp,  trying  to  formulate  some 
definite  idea  of  what  he  would  do.  He  dared  not 
look  a  day  into  the  future.  In  spite  of  his  plans, 
there  was  little  to  be  done,  little  to  hope  for.  He 
might  get  on  a  week  if  he  used  his  two  dollars  care- 
fully, but  after  that, — what?  The  fighting,  the  starv- 
ing, the  grim  battle  of  life  taken  up  again  at  the  same 
point  where  it  had  left  off. 

"  I've  the  rest  of  to-day  and  to-morrow  until  nine 
o'clock  before  the  excursion  leaves.  I'll  take  that  up 
first.  I'll  try  hard  for  it.  It  seems  as  though  luck 
ought  to  come  my  way  once, — just  once.  But  if  I 
can't  get  away, — why,  Monday  I  must  look  for  an- 
other job,  that's  all,"  he  told  himself,  finally.  Only 
thus  far  would  he  look  ahead.  Beyond  a  few  hours  at 
a  time  the  prospect  was  overpowering. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  19 


CHAPTER   II. 

Jarvis  crossed  the  city,  leaving  behind  him  the  fac- 
tories and  wholesale  section  and  returning  to  the  more 
familiar  quarters  of  the  retail  district.  In  appear- 
ance Jarvis  presented  a  sharp  contrast  to  the  ordinary 
street  boy.  He  was  tall,  well  set  up,  with  a  firm  car- 
riage and  an  attractive  face.  His  eyes  were  dark 
brown,  his  forehead  wide  and  high,  his  nose  and  chin 
delicate,  showing  an  unmistakable  sensitiveness.  One 
looking  at  him  guessed  at  his  refinement,  just  as  one  ex- 
pected him  to  be  mentally  quick  and  given  to  sudden 
moods.  The  strong  morning  light  showed  lines  in 
his  face  that  had  no  right  to  be  there.  His  brows 
were  drawn  closely  together,  his  lips  compressed.  As 
had  been  the  case  all  night,  he  was  alternately  formu- 
lating and  dismissing  plan  after  plan  from  his  mind, 
hunting  for  some  solution  to  his  troubles. 

At  a  little  before  twelve  o'clock  he  stopped  on  a 
corner  at  the  converging  of  four  streets,  fairly  lost  in 
the  confusion  of  the  city's  life.  Penniless,  he  was 
in  the  very  center  of  riches;  all  alone,  he  was  in  the 
heart  of  a  multitude;  in  spite  of  that,  there  was  no  one 
to  help  him.  People  seemed  infinitely  removed  from 
him. 


20  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

Taking  advantage  of  a  sudden  lull  in  the  traffic, 
Jarvis  moved  across  to  an  opposite  corner,  still  aimless, 
passing  the  wretched  hours  known  so  well  to  the  home- 
less, going  forward  or  backward  for  no  reason  at  all 
except  to  move.  But  at  this  last  stopping  place  the 
boy's  eyes  caught  sight  of  a  wonderful  exhibit.  Be- 
fore him  was  a  jewelry  store.  A  window  filled  with 
a  great  display.  Gems  such  as  the  boy  had  never 
dreamed  of  confronted  his  gaze.  Rubies  in  white 
velvet  cases,  diamonds  like  miniature  suns,  sapphires 
made  up  in  exquisite  designs,  a  collection  of  opals  that 
occupied  two-thirds  of  the  space. 

The  sight,  so  unexpected,  stimulated  Jarvis'  imagi- 
nation. Vividly  he  saw  himself  the  owner  of  these 
gems;  removed  from  poverty;  selling  the  jewels  for 
the  benefit  of  that  new  era  he  would  inaugurate.  The 
vision  expanded  before  the  eye  of  his  mind.  The  de- 
tails of  possession  were  swept  away.  He  saw  only 
the  West;  his  completed  achievement;  his  ideas  an 
assured  success.  More  than  that,  to  this  new  world,  his 
colony,  flocked  others,  anxious  to  learn  the  system  of 
this  magnificent  undertaking.  How  gladly  these 
visitors  were  welcomed!  He  could  hear  himself  de- 
livering addresses,  always  friendly,  always  express- 
ing brotherly  love.  On  the  instant,  all  the  repressed 
hope  of  months  leaped  up  within  the  boy.  He  felt 
elated.  Great  thoughts  galloped  through  his  imagi- 
nation. Nothing  should  prevent  his  work!  He 
would  find  his  place  at  last. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  21 

As  he  reached  this  point,  abruptly  the  boy  was  con- 
scious of  voices  close  to  him.  He  looked  up  and  saw 
two  ladies  by  his  side.  Like  himself,  they  had  with- 
drawn from  the  crowd  and  stood  almost  touching  the 
window,  very  interested  in  the  jewels. 

Jarvis  realized  they  were  real  ladies;  graceful,  ele- 
gantly dressed,  veiled  and  gloved,  the  scent  of  violet 
strong  about  them.  He  could  catch  ends  of  their  con- 
versation about  certain  gems  they  had  seen  and  com- 
parisons made  between  those  in  the  window  and  stones 
in  their  own  possession.  Jarvis  listened.  The  sound 
of  their  voices,  soft,  low,  refined,  was  still  distinctly 
audible  above  the  roar  about  them.  But  in  spite  of 
himself,  their  easy  talk  of  wealth  brought  him  back 
with  a  wrench  from  his  exaltation  of  the  previous 
moment.  The  new  epoch  suddenly  flattened  ridicu- 
lously; his  own  part  in  the  achievement  became  the 
flimsiest  absurdity. 

He  might  dream  and  dream,  but  after  all  he  was  lit- 

•  tie  less  than  a  beggar,  winding  along  the  mazes  set  for 

the  destitute;    traversing  mile  after  mile  of  pavement 

with  aching  limbs  and  throbbing  nerves,  only  to  fall 

finally  by  the  wayside. 

Sick  and  tired  of  everything,  his  mind  swung  like 
a  huge  pendulum  oscillating  between  high  spirits  and 
intense  gloom.  A  certain  morbidness  swept  aside  his 
theories.  He  was  seized  with  an  overwhelming  de- 
sire to  break  the  bounds  of  trying  to  do  right.  Why 
not  take  up  the  other  means  of  life  ?  Who  was  there  to 


22  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

care  what  he  did !  Did  anything  really  matter  so  long 
as  a  man  was  never  found  out?  Suppose  now  he 
should  steal — one  of  those  rubies,  for  instance? 
Would  it  be  a  sin  for  one  who  needed  money  as  cruelly 
as  he?  Already  he  was  an  outcast  thrust  aside  by 
everyone.  He  had  nothing  to  lose,  everything  to  gain. 
How  about  crime  when  one  was  practically  suffering 
for  necessities? 

Jarvis'  heart  was  bounding,  his  breath  came  short. 
He  began  to  argue  this  theory,  becoming  all  the  time 
more  and  more  muddled  as  to  what  was  right  and 
wrong.  It  is  difficult  to  proceed  along  a  narrow  path 
when  you  are  starving  and  one  step  aside  means  food. 

The  boy's  body  gave  an  involuntary  shiver.  He 
looked  about  him  with  a  narrow  glance,  half  fearful 
that  his  thoughts  had  spoken  themselves  aloud.  The 
roar  of  the  city,  the  shuffling  of  thousands  and  thou- 
sands of  feet  rose  on  the  air.  But  for  all  the  notice 
that  was  taken  of  them,  the  universe  might  have  con- 
tained but  three  people,  himself  and  these  two  grand 
ladies  who  fitted  -in  so  well  with  the  show  and  riches  of 
this  window. 

The  boy  stood  motionless.  He  wondered  what  he 
was  doing,  what  he  intended  to  do.  He  seemed  to  be 
living  in  some  horrible  dream.  His  temptation  had 
become  an  uncontrollable  desire  for  evil.  His  whole 
purpose  concentrated  itself  on  the  one  wish  to  get 
money  at  any  cost.  The  stones  in  that  window  were 
out  of  the  question,  but  with  a  curious,  dumb  conscious- 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  23 

ness  he  had  long  since  become  aware  of  something 
hanging  to  the  belt  of  the  lady  next  him.  It  fixed  his 
whole  attention.  Unwittingly  he  had  found  the  means 
he  sought. 

From  under  his  lowered  lids  his  eyes  shot  a  glance 
up  and  down  the  street.  On  the  broad  walk  a  veri- 
table procession  hurried  by,  each  person  apparently  in- 
tent on  making  his  way  through  the  throng  more  rap- 
idly than  his  neighbor.  No  one  was  paying  the  least 
heed  to  him  or  to  the  group  near  him.  Rooted  to  the 
spot,  Jarvis  looked  down  again  at  that  swinging  bag. 
Toward  what  fate  was  it  engulfing  him?  He  hated 
himself  for  the  very  thoughts  that  surged  through  his 
mind.  Everything  grew  red  before  his  vision. 
Again  he  began  to  argue,  this  time  against  himself. 
His  mind  was  working  with  lightning  rapidity.  But 
there  was  no  escape  from  this  temptation.  He  lost  his 
strength  of  individuality,  becoming  in  a  sense  dual. 
At  every  turn  the  fact  faced  him  that  here  was  his 
chance, — the  chance  of  getting  away;  the  chance  of  a 
future,  the  chance  he  had  fought  for,  struggled  for. 
It  was  here,  now,  not  to  be  missed.  He  was  stuck 
unless  something  happened  soon. 

The  thought  clanged  through  his  head,  every  nerve 
jangled  in  his  body  like  grating  bells.  Suddenly  ar- 
gument ceased,  the  temptation  had  conquered. 

He  looked  furtively  and  quickly  from  side  to'  side. 
Then  his  hand  went  out  steadily, — stealthily.  Not  a 
finger  quivered.  Horror  and  terror  danced  madly  be- 


24  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

fore  the  boy's  dazed  senses,  yet  that  hand,  firm,  un- 
erring, went  on  its  way. 

It  was  over  in  a  minute.  Jarvis  turned  away  easily, 
almost  jauntily,  with  both  hands  shoved  into  his  trou- 
sers pockets.  He  even  paused,  looking  up  and  down 
the  street  as  if  undecided  which  way  to  go.  An  ap- 
proaching car  settled  the  matter.  He  waited  quietly 
and  when  it  came  up  swung  on  the  platform. 

He  saw  vaguely  that  there  were  two  persons  inside, 
also  in  a  dim  way  he  was  conscious  that  a  man  fol- 
lowed him  onto  the  car,  and  that  the  new-comer  stood 
outside.  But  neither  observation  made  much  impres- 
sion. Trembling  and  weak,  his  strength  gone  from 
him  with  a  bound,  Jarvis  sat  down  hurriedly  near  an 
open  window,  leaning  his  head  on  one  hand.  A  great 
sickness  swept  through  him.  He  was  no  longer  pos- 
sessed of  a  duality.  His  mind  was  no  longer  slug- 
gish. He  was  a  thief, — a  common  thief, — a  man  who 
had  stolen  from  a  woman!  He  who  thus  far  in  all 
his  battle  with  hardships  had  prided  himself  on  his 
honesty.  Abruptly  the  years  to  come  presented  them- 
selves to  his  mind.  All  the  bigness  of  what  he  aimed 
at;  all  the  inspiration  of  his  dream  country  where  he 
himself,  by  his  own  example,  was  to  inaugurate  a  new 
era  of  things;  all  his  pride  in  being  able  to  refer  to 
his  hard  past  and  how  he  had  come  through  dis- 
couragements and  difficulties  without  a  smirch  on  his 
honor, — all  this  had  collapsed  like  a  gigantic  soap-bub- 
ble. His  complete  unworthiness  was  proven.  He  had 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  25 

been  defeated  in  everything.  His  weakness  and  cow- 
ardness were  paramount. 

The  car  went  on  and  on.  When  the  conductor 
finally  called  "  end  of  road,"  Jarvis  started  up,  staring 
stupidly.  They  were  at  the  limits  of  the  city.  Before 
him  was  a  grove  of  trees  apparently  isolated.  No- 
where, as  far  as  he  could  see,  was  there  any  sign  of 
a  dwelling.  A  grateful  hush  brooded  everywhere  and 
the  boy's  eyes  fell  hungrily  on  the  little  glimpse  of  coun- 
try. It  was  very  still.  Two  woodpeckers  at  work  in  a 
hollow  tree  were  all  that  disturbed  the  silence  of  the 
wood.  The  dull  roar  of  the  city  was  shut  out  from  his 
ears  at  last,  and  in  spite  of  himself  the  calmness 
quieted  the  boy. 

It  was  a  relief  to  be  alone.  He  liked  the  solitude; 
he  liked  the  fresh  wind  blowing  across  his  face.  He 
liked  the  feel  of  the  long,  springy  grass  that  spread 
out  under  all  the  trees  like  a  thick  brown  carpet.  He 
followed  along  the  ragged  edge  of  a  path  that  led 
through  the  grove,  crossing  it  from  end  to  end.  But 
in  the  center  of  the  woods  he  stopped,  sitting  down, 
leaning  his  back  against  a  tree,  for  a  long  time  mo- 
tionless. A  strange  desire  held  his  thoughts.  He 
found  himself  wishing  that  he  could  remain  here  for- 
ever, all  by  himself,  leading  the  life  of  a  hermit.  He 
began  to  feel  somehow  that  once  away  from  this  soli- 
tude, he  would  be  bitten  with  immediate  suspicion, 
ridden  to  punishment  no  matter  how  cautious  he  was. 
What  he  had  done  could  not  be  undone ;  he  understood 


26  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

that.  Either  hiding  or  flight  from  the  consequences 
was  the  only  rational  thing.  But  was  he  ever  going 
to  feel  free  again  in  the  midst  of  people?  If  there  was 
money  enough  in  the  bag,  he  would  take  the  excursion 
train.  Once  West  he  might  be  safe — safer,  anyway, 
than  here.  But  would  safety,  even  in  years  to  come, 
obliterate  his  shame? 

Jarvis  pulled  sharply  at  his  pocket.  With  some  dif- 
ficulty the  long,  thick  bag  came  out  and  the  boy,  turn- 
ing it  over  between  both  hands,  looked  at  it  admir- 
ingly. It  was  a  curious  and  evidently  very  expensive 
purse.  It  was  made  of  green  and  gold  cloth,  heavily 
embroidered,  fastened  by  chains  to  a  disk  of  carved 
ivory.  This  disk  was  flat  and  polished  to  a  high 
smoothness,  but  it  was  this  very  piece  of  ivory  that  had 
held  the  bag  in  place  at  the  owner's  belt.  It  had  been 
an  easy  matter  for  Jarvis  to  draw  it  out.  The  boy 
wondered  how  a  woman  could  be  so  careless  of  money. 
Almost  before  he  realized  what  he  was  doing,  the  purse 
unclasped,  opening  wide,  and  his  glance  fell  on  the 
contents. 

He  stared  steadily,  his  eyes  widening  in  astonish- 
ment. It  was  filled  with  money;  the  bills  fairly  stuck 
in  place  as  though  they  had  been  crammed  there  in 
a  great  hurry.  There  were  one  hundred  dollars. 
Bright,  crisp,  new  bills  just  from  the  bank, — six  tens, 
eight  fives.  Jarvis  counted  them  over  and  over  again, 
holding  the  money  in  his  left  hand,  passing  it  bill  by 
bill  from  right  to  left  between  the  thumb  and  first  fin- 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  27 

ger  of  his  right  hand.  He  could  not  credit  his  senses. 
Who  would  have  thought  of  such  a  thing,  such  a  find ! 
It  was  unaccountable.  The  enormity  of  the  theft  was 
lost  under  the  weight  of  his  surprise.  His  mind 
whirled. 

As  Jarvis  went  over  the  bills  the  seventh  time,  he 
stopped  abruptly  half-way  through  the  performance. 
His  eyes  lifted,  and  at  the  same  moment  his  body  be- 
came rigid.  Something  had  stirred  on  the  turf  di- 
rectly behind  him.  Breathless,  motionless,  he  listened, 
trying  to  persuade  himself  that  the  sound  came  from 
the  trees  or  perhaps  had  been  just  his  fancy.  He  had 
had  a  trying  morning.  Naturally  he  was  nervous. 
There  was  nothing  there.  Just  the  grass  and  the 
woods. 

A  minute  later  he  turned  sharply  and  looked  up. 
One  fearful  tremor  shot  up  his  spine,  settling  itself 
somewhere  in  the  base  of  his  brain.  He  grew  cold 
as  death. 

A  man  stepped  calmly  from  behind  the  trunk  of  a 
huge  tree.  On  the  instant  Jarvis  realized  that  he  had 
been  tracked,  followed,  caught. 

Foster  Meredith  was  a  man  past  fifty,  very  tall,  very 
thin,  his  length  accentuated  by  the  ulster  he  wore.  It 
was  a  long,  dark,  funereal  garment  covering  him  from 
his  throat  to  his  feet.  His  face  was  smooth  shaven, 
his  eyes  unsteady,  his  mouth  thin  and  straight  and  pos- 
sessed of  certain  lines  and  curves  that  could  not  be 
mistaken.  It  was  a  mouth  that  said  "  Beware."  But 


28  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

just  now  it  smiled  down  at  Jarvis  with  a  faint  expres- 
sion of  amusement.  Without  removing  his  cigar 
from  the  corner  of  his  lips,  he  remarked : 

"  M'boy,  I'm  onto  you." 

Jarvis'  ringers  closed  convulsively  over  the  money. 
His  lips  were  colorless  and  certain  nerves  in  his  body, 
seemed  to  have  become  unmanageable;  relaxing,  then 
promptly  tightening  again  in  an  unaccountable  manner. 

"  You've  kept  me  waitin'  for  some  time.  I  was  be- 
ginning to  believe  you  hadn't  much  curiosity."  Mr. 
Meredith  flicked  the  ashes  from  his  cigar,  then  con- 
tinued easily :  "  But  I  must  say  you  done  well.  For 
a  kid  you  done  very  well.  I  couldn't  a'  got  it  much 
slicker  myself.  But,  m'boy,  it  won't  do.  I've  got  to 
have  it  and  I'm  losin'  considerable  valuable  time  in 
makin'  this  long  'daytour,'  as  the  Frenchies  have  it.  I 
must  make  good,  quick.  So  fork  over.  Hand  it  right 
up.  It's  too  much  for  a  little  feller  to  be  out  with. 
Some  wicked  man  might  bat  you  over  the  head  to 
get  it." 

For  the  first  few  seconds  of  the  man's  speech  Jarvis 
looked  at  him  stupidly,  having  no  definite  thought  of 
anything  except  that  danger  overshadowed  him.  At 
the  demand  to  hand  over  the  money,  however,  the 
boy's  senses  regathered  themselves.  On  the  moment 
he  lost  all  care  of  the  right  and  wrong  of  his  theft.  A 
man  had  seen  him  steal  and  the  enemy  had  shown  him- 
self. Jarvis  argued  that  unless  things  went  in  his 
own  favor,  miraculously  in  his  favor,  not  only  was  his 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  29 

chance  of  the  future  gone,  but  he  himself  was  lost ;  his 
liberty  jeopardized. 

Jarvis  raised  his  eyes  to  Meredith's  face.  "  I'm 
glad  you  approve  the  way  I  took  the  money,"  he  re- 
marked courteously.  "  I  should  say  that  you  might 
be  a  good  judge  of  such  a  performance.  But  don't 
you  worry  about  me.  No  wicked  man  shall  take  what 
I  have  risked  so  much  to  get." 

Meredith  laughed  indulgently .  At  the  same  time  a 
gleam  came  into  his  eyes. 

"  You  make  your  'daytour  back  again,"  Jarvis  went 
on,  his  voice  hardening.  "  I  shall  not  fork  over  any- 
thing— not  one  bill  out  of  the  whole  roll."  With  a 
sudden  move  he  shut  the  bag.  With  equal  alertness 
he  replaced  it  in  his  trousers  pocket  and  jumped  to  his 
feet.  All  this  time  his  eyes  rested  on  Foster  Mere- 
dith. 

That  gentleman  had  lost  his  mirthfulness  and  a 
savage  look  crept  into  his  eyes.  "  I  can  send  you  up 
for  this,"  he  growled  in  a  low  tone. 

"  I  doubt  whether  you  would  really  care  to  run  such 
hazards  with  your  own  liberty."  Jarvis  thrust  his 
chin  in  the  air.  His  manner  tinged  on  the  bravado. 
Apparently  he  was  very  sure  of  himself. 

Foster  stepped  nearer.  "  I  advise  you  to  stop  this 
monkey  business  and  get  a  move  on  you  damned  sud- 
den," he  vociferated. 

Jarvis'  quick  eyes  saw  the  move  that  accompanied 
the  speech  and  he  understood.  If  Meredith's  hand 


30  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

reached  his  hip  pocket,  the  possession  of  the  weapon 
that  reposed  there,  loaded,  cocked,  ready  for  immediate 
use,  would  bring  matters  to  an  easy  finish.  Before  an 
armed  man  what  hope  would  there  be!  It  would  re- 
solve itself  into  a  situation  of  "stand  and  deliver." 
Intuitively  the  boy's  hand  doubled.  He  had  no  fear, 
no  anger,  and  he  acted  purely  from  the  promptings  of 
instinct.  The  sixth  sense  stirred  in  him  at  impending 
danger  and  awakened  to  proclaim  its  warning. 

Before  Meredith's  hand  had  gone  half-way  to  the 
danger  point,  Jarvis  was  on  him,  gripping  the  man's 
arms,  striking  at  his  head,  kicking  at  his  legs. 

On  the  instant  Meredith  was  back  at  the  boy,  fight- 
ing wildly  to  free  himself,  to  get  his  hands  loose  for  a 
fraction  of  a  second, — long  enough  to  reach  his  pistol. 

The  long  coat  flew  about  him.  He  turned  and 
twisted,  scrambled  and  squirmed.  His  face  flamed, 
his  hair,  damp  with  sweat,  matted  on  his  forehead. 
Once  he  slipped,  falling  half-way  to  the  ground,  re- 
gaining his  footing  only  by  a  tremendous  effort.  But 
work  as  he  would,  nothing  he  could  do,  no  power  that 
he  could  exert  loosened  the  grip  of  Jarvis'  hold. 

Wheeling  round  and  round  one  another,  each  still 
hung  on  madly.  Jarvis  labored  and  struggled  to  over- 
come his  antagonist,  vaguely  wondering  at  such  te- 
nacity and  quickness  in  so  old  a  man.  Staggering 
under  the  blows  that  rained  down  on  him,  bruised, 
battered,  his  ringers  aching,  his  nails  broken,  Jarvis 
grappled  with  his  foe.  He  knew  that  once  the  man 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  31 

was  freed,  once  allowed  to  gain  possession  of  that  pis- 
tol in  his  hip  pocket,  death,  swift,  certain,  would  follow. 

First  one  man  would  be  down,  then  the  other. 
No  advantage  had  been  gained  yet  on  either  side. 
The  sound  of  their  fighting  broke  the  stillness.  There 
were  no  words,  no  cries,  only  the  irregular  sound  of 
labored  breathing,  increasing  into  gasping  inhalations 
as  the  men  grew  tired.  At  intervals  there  would  come 
a  short  grunt,  a  little  cry;  once  an  exclamation  from 
Jarvis,  again  an  oath  from  Meredith,  but  for  the  most 
part  nothing  articulate  came  from  the  men's  open 
mouths. 

A  score  of  times  there  was  a  pause,  a  short  ces- 
sation of  hostilities,  when  it  seemed  that  the  end  had 
come.  But  after  drawing  a  second's  breath  they  were 
at  it  again  harder  than  before,  rushing  at  each  other, 
their  heads  down, — two  terrible  figures  of  unconquer- 
able ferocity. 

The  finish  came  suddenly.  Meredith  had  raised 
himself  to  his  full  height,  catching  Jarvis  with  one 
arm  about  the  neck.  In  a  frantic  endeavor  to  unfetter 
his  body  from  the  boy's  encircling  arms,  the  man 
wheeled  sharply  to  the  left.  The  long  ulster  twisted, 
winding  itself  securely  about  Meredith's  legs.  With 
a  tremendous  shock  he  came  to  the  ground,  bound 
tight,  with  no  chance  to  move,  absolutely  helpless. 
Jarvis  crashed  down  upon  him  unhurt.  Almost  in  the 
act  of  falling,  he  writhed  loose  of  Meredith's  clasp. 
In  the  instant  that  ensued,  the  boy  found  his  opportu- 


32  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

nity.  A  gleam  of  frantic  joy  lighted  his  face.  He 
had  reached  the  point  of  utter  collapse  and  he  knew  it. 
Not  thirty  seconds  longer  could  he  have  stood  up.  If 
the  struggle  was  not  settled  now  against  Meredith,  he 
himself  would  be  crushed,  annihilated,  an  easy  victim 
to  this  thin  man. 

Jarvis  braced  himself  on  one  knee,  his  only  idea  to 
stun  his  enemy.  His  hand  closed,  doubled  hard  and 
white  with  the  last  grip  his  nerves  could  muster. 
Straight,  swift,  unerring,  his  arm  shot  out.  The  fist 
caught  Meredith  under  the  chin  with  the  force  of  a 
hammer.  There  was  a  crack,  a  quaver  of  the  whole 
body,  a  queer  trembling  sigh,  and  Meredith  rolled  over 
on  the  brown  wiry  grass. 

It  was  a  blow  delivered  at  the  expense  of  all  of  Jar- 
vis'  remaining  strength.  Weak,  panting,  his  clothes 
torn,  his  face  bloody,  he  sank  back  in  a  half  faint. 
He  did  not  know  whether  he  had  won  or  lost.  He 
did  not  care.  If  Meredith  had  risen  then  and  there 
and  pointed  the  revolver  at  Jarvis'  head,  the  boy  would 
have  made  no  move  to  save  himself. 

But  Meredith  did  not  rise.  He  did  not  even  speak. 
The  time  dragged  on.  The  pleasant  hush  that  brooded 
by  right  over  the  grove  had  possession  again. 
After  a  little  the  woodpeckers,  taking  courage  at  the 
prolonged  quiet,  went  back  to  their  endless  tapping  on 
the  hollow  tree. 

Jarvis'  long,  quivering  breaths,  that  choked  off  short 
in  his  throat  almost  before  they  were  drawn,  began  to 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  33 

give  place  to  a  more  regular  respiration.  By  degrees 
his  faintness  passed.  He  looked  about  him  stupidly, 
for  a  long  time  unconscious  that  a  steady  stream  of 
blood  trickled  down  his  face  from  a  cut  on  his  head. 
When  he  took  out  his  handkerchief,  mopping  himself, 
he  was  bewildered  at  the  sight  of  a  bright  red  stain. 
The  cloth  was  half  soaked.  It  seemed  as  though  the 
cut  would  bleed  forever.  Every  part  of  his  body 
ached.  His  mind  was  dazed,  his  thoughts  chaotic. 
If  he  had  followed  his  inclination  he  would  have  sat 
there  forever.  His  arms  hung  loosely  by  his  side,  his 
eyes  searched  helplessly  on  the  ground,  vaguely  look- 
ing for  something. 

Presently  he  sat  up  involuntarily,  his  exhaustion 
overcome  by  sudden  uneasiness.  Something  very 
near  him  was  making  a  strange  sound.  Was  that 
dreadful  fight  about  to  be  renewed?  Was  Meredith 
getting  ready  to  begin  another  attack? 

"  I  can't  fight  again.  I  can't  hold  my  own  another 
minute.  I'll  just  have  to  get  away,  to  move  before 
he  can  begin  the  row.  I'm  done  up."  Jarvis  whis- 
pered to  himself,  his  glance  wandering  furtively  to- 
ward the  prostrate  figure. 

But  what  he  saw  reassured  him.  Meredith  showed 
no  evidences  of  renewing  hostilities.  He  lay  as  he  had 
fallen,  half  on  his  side,  stiff,  motionless.  In  fact,  the 
longer  the  boy  looked  at  that  figure,  the  more  he  stared. 
The  strange  sound  that  had  startled  him  was  issuing 
from  the  man's  throat ;  terrible,  rasping,  raucous,  the 


34  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

breathing  of  a  dying  creature.     It  was  an  abominable 
noise. 

"  He  must  be  very  tired,  done  up  worse  than  I  am  to 
breathe  like  that,"  muttered  the  boy.  "Still  I  ought  to 
go.  There's  no  telling,  he  may  be  playing  for  me. 
I've  got  to  go,"  he  reiterated. 

Mechanically  he  thrust  his  hand  into  his  pocket. 
IT  was  there.  The  thing  for  which  he  had  stolen  and 
fought;  the  hundred  dollars  that  stood  between  him 
and  his  conscience. 

He  arose  stiffly.  The  bloody  handkerchief  slipped  to 
the  ground,  falling  close  to  Meredith,  but  Jarvis  had 
forgotten  the  handkerchief.  Every  step  he  took  was 
accompanied  by  sharp  physical  pain.  Besides  this,  as 
he  advanced  cautiously  to  Meredith's  side,  he  saw 
with  a  shock  that  the  man's  eyes  were  closed  and  that 
his  face  was  ashen.  But  worse  than  his  appearance 
was  that  loud,  terrible  sound  coming  from  the  open 
mouth ;  labored,  agonizing,  making  itself  heard  sharp- 
ly above  the  hushed  noises  in  the  grove.  Occasionally 
the  body  twitched,  but  that  was  the  only  evidence  of 
life  the  man  exhibited. 

Jarvis  turned  away  sick  with  horror,  trembling  vio- 
lently. "  Pray  God  someone  comes  this  way  soon, 
very  soon!  Someone  who  will  give  him  help,"  mut- 
tered the  boy. 

Jarvis  started  on  his  way.  His  legs  were  unsteady 
and  he  made  a  complete  circle  of  the  grove  before  he 
left  for  the  open  streets.  All  at  once  a  change  had 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  35 

come  over  him.  He  was  suspicious  of  every  shadow, 
his  eyes  seeing  everything.  "  I'll  bet  something  is 
going  to  happen,"  he  muttered ;  "  I  don't  feel  just  right 
• — no,  I  don't  feel  right  at  all,"  he  whispered. 

He  was  sure  that  he  was  being  tracked.  He  was 
afraid  to  take  a  car,  afraid  to  be  seen  by  people,  and 
he  walked  miles  out  of  his  way  to  approach  the  city 
by  a  circuitous  route.  The  new  suspicion  of  someone 
hanging  on  his  heels  annoyed  him  incessantly.  He 
went  on  with  great  swiftness,  determined  to  distance 
his  pursuers,  and  once  within  the  city's  limits,  he  con- 
tinually doubled  on  his  tracks,  looking  sharply  over 
his  shoulders  at  the  sound  of  any  step  behind  him.  On 
all  sides  he  listened  panic-stricken  for  talk  of  a  rob- 
bery. But  everything  was  quiet  enough.  He  con- 
tinued his  way  unmolested,  apparently  unnoticed,  but 
tremendously  anxious  for  all  that. 

It  was  dark  before  he  had  the  courage  to  enter 
the  lodging-house.  With  unnatural  cunning  he  had 
prowled  around  the  entrance,  waiting  a  chance  to  go  in 
unobserved.  Once  inside  his  own  room,  he  turned 
the  key,  crouching  close  to  the  door,  listening  for  un- 
familiar footsteps.  But  no  enemy  showed  himself. 
And  presently  the  boy,  harassed  with  a  thousand  fears, 
threw  himself  on  his  bed. 

He  was  alone.  The  day  was  ended.  His  purse  was 
safe.  But  what  the  next  twenty-four  hours  would 
bring  to  him  he  dared  not  think.  He  had  sacrificed 
the  right  to  his  freedom.  Had  he  cunning  enough 
to  evade  the  law? 


36  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 


CHAPTER  III. 

Jarvis  was  up  and  down  half  the  night.  He  could 
not  sleep.  He  started  at  the  very  sounds  that  were 
most  familiar.  The  noise  of  his  own  breathing  terri- 
fied him.  His  only  comfort  was  in  the  thought  that 
morning  would  see  him  getting  out  of  town.  He 
would  go  away, — anywhere !  He  had  killed  all  chance 
of  staying  in  the  neighborhood  of  his  robbery  by  that 
fight  with  Meredith. 

"  He'll  tell  all  he  knows.  He  won't  rest  till  I'm 
nabbed.  I'm  sure  of  that,"  he  said.  "  I've  got  to 
clear  out  and  not  waste  much  time  about  it,  either." 

But  where  to  go,  that  was  the  question.  Where  to 
go  and  what  to  do.  It  had  been  bad  enough  to  starve, 
but  to  be  chased,  always  chased,  was  terrible.  Hour 
after  hour  he  turned  these  things  over  in  his  mind,  be- 
wildered, uneasy.  Just  as  the  dawn  began  to  lighten 
the  eastern  sky,  the  boy  got  out  of  his  bed,  going  care- 
fully about  the  room,  satisfying  himself  that  every- 
thing was  all  right.  Then  he  sat  down  by  the  win- 
dow, wrapping  a  blanket  about  him  to  keep  warm. 

Never  had  daylight  been  so  welcome.  He  drew  a 
great  sigh  of  relief  as  little  by  little  the  first  pale  rays 
of  the  sun  pierced  their  way  through  the  black  pall  in 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  37 

the  sky.  Strangely  enough,  up  to  this  time,  Jarvis 
had  forgotten  the  excursion  to  California ;  the  trip  that 
was  to  settle  his  life;  the  trip  that  had  cost  him  all  of 
these  difficulties;  the  trip  that  until  the  episode  of  his 
fight  in  the  grove  had  occupied  his  mind  to  the  exclu- 
sion of  everything  else. 

Suddenly  it  all  flashed  back  on  him.  He  started  up 
with  an  exclamation.  That  was  it,  of  course.  Where 
had  his  wits  been,  anyway !  The  train  left  that  night. 
It  furnished  the  means  for  leaving  town.  During  the 
day  he  could  manage  to  keep  out  of  sight.  Once  he 
was  West,  his  enemy  could  talk  himself  sleepless,  for 
all  the  harm  that  would  come. 

He  threw  off  his  blanket  and  began  to  dress.  The 
impulse  rose  in  him  so  strong  to  act  at  once  on  his 
decision  that  he  wasted  no  time.  As  he  drew  on  his 
clothes  his  plans  took  definite  shape. 

"  I'll  pack  now,"  he  told  himself,  "  give  up  my  room 
and  take  my  grip  to  the  station.  I  can  check  it  at  the 
waiting-room,  then  I'll  go  to  the  ticket  office  and  buy 
the  ticket.  That's  the  idea.  On  the  street  I  can  keep 
my  eyes  open.  If  that  fellow  I  fought  can  spy,  I  can 
dodge.  Sure.  If  he's  smart,  I'll  go  him  one  better. 
The  streets  to-day  and  this  time  to-morrow  I'll  be 
safe." 

Every  minute  his  spirits  lifted.  When  partly 
dressed,  he  took  down  his  battered  telescope  and  began 
laying  his  things  on  the  bed.  He  worked  fast,  empty- 
ing drawer  after  drawer,  shaking,  smoothing,  folding 


38  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

every  garment.  Fitting  his  two  spare  coats  to  the 
space  allotted  them  in  the  telescope  took  time  and  at- 
tention. His  best  coat  was  placed  carefully  on  a  chair, 
ready  to  be  put  on  at  the  last  minute.  It  was  astonish- 
ing how  much  stuff  he  had.  Jarvis  stood  still  in  the 
middle  of  the  room,  his  glance  shifting  from  the  half- 
filled  receptacle  to  the  pile  of  things  still  to  go  in. 

He  was  without  coat  or  vest,  his  suspenders  swing- 
ing over  his  hips.  His  hair  ruffled  and  unbrushed 
stood  up  roughly  all  over  his  head.  His  face  was 
badly  bruised,  and  high  up  on  his  forehead  was  that 
cut,  red,  swollen  to  the  size  of  a  small  hen's  egg.  But 
the  sense  of  danger  that  had  so  beset  him  all  night  had 
worn  off.  He  felt  comparatively  easy. 

"If  anyone  had  told  me  I  had  as  much  as  this — ! 
Where  did  it  all  come  from  ?  It'll  take  a  pressing  ma- 
chine to  stamp  it  in  there." 

He  began  over  again,  taking  out  everything  that  was 
already  in,  beginning  this  time  with  the  pile  left  on 
the  bed.  In  the  midst  of  this  proceeding,  the  city  be- 
gan to  waken  to  its  work.  Everywhere  the  smell  of 
coffee  permeated  the  atmosphere,  and  just  as  the 
whistles  were  blowing  for  seven  o'clock,  a  newsboy 
took  up  his  stand  directly  under  Jarvis'  window,  filling 
the  air  with  his  shrill  voice. 

At  the  first  cry  Jarvis  wheeled  sharply  and  stopped 
his  packing,  straightening  up  rigidly.  He  listened. 
Every  word  of  the  shouted  sentences  smote  his  brain. 
But  the  very  distinctness  with  which  he  heard  stunned 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  39 

him.  He  waited  for  the  repeated  cry,  his  head 
cocked,  his  ears  pricked,  standing  in  the  attitude  of 
strained  attention.  He  was  white  about  the  lips.  His 
face  grew  paler  and  paler.  At  close  intervals  the 
newsboy  below  shouted : 

"  All  about  the  mysterious  murder !  Get  your 
paper.  Here  you  are :  all  about  the  mysterious  mur- 
der. A  man  found  dying  in  North  Grove.  Can't 
describe  his  assailant.  Here  you  are.  Get  a  paper. 
All  about  the  murder  at  North  Grove !  " 

Jarvis  grew  very  cold.  He  did  not  doubt  the  truth 
for  one  moment.  His  throat  was  rent  by  a  suppressed 
cry,  his  hands  were  raised  before  his  face  as  if  to 
ward  off  some  terrible  blow.  "What  was  that? 
What  is  he  saying?  What  is  it?"  he  repeated  mechan- 
ically over  and  over  again. 

With  his  knees  bending  under  him  and  without 
knowing  what  he  was  doing,  the  boy  crossed  to  the 
window.  He  opened  it  quietly  and  leaned  far  out  over 
the  casement.  He  was  like  a  ghost.  His  mind 
seemed  leaving  him.  He  trembled  until  his  body 
danced. 

Yes,  no  doubt  about  it,  a  murder  had  been  com- 
mitted. Farther  down  the  street  he  could  hear  the 
prolonged  cries  of  other  newsboys,  all  shouting  out 
the  same  information.  To  his  mind  he  was  sur- 
rounded by  yelling  accusers.  He  saw  them  every- 
where, listened  to  them  everywhere. 

There  had  been  a  murder  up  there  in  that  grove.     It 


40  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

was  no  mere  coincidence.  Small  wonder  these  streets 
resounded  with  cries  that  were  aimed  at  him.  His 
last  hope  had  crumbled.  Before  his  vision  every  inch 
of  the  place  stood  out  with  sudden  vividness.  The 
tall  trees,  stripped  of  their  leaves ;  the  solitude  and  iso- 
lation; the  long,  wiry  grass,  browned  by  the  frosts; 
the  noise  of  those  woodpeckers  at  their  incessant 
rapping.  And  in  the  clear  space,  prostrate,  stretched 
very  deathlike  and  cold,  was  that  long,  thin  man 
breathing  with  the  terrible  sound. 

Jarvis  shuddered.  "  My  God ! "  he  whispered, 
"  My  God !  "  Falling  on  his  knees  he  was  shaken 
with  such  misery  as  he  had  never  before  known. 

An  hour  passed.  His  mind  was  going  ahead  in 
leaps  and  bounds.  He  no  longer  saw  himself  trying 
to  escape  the  penalty  attached  to  theft,  but  pictured 
out  a  dreadful  future, — the  end  of  a  criminal,  a  mur- 
derer! All  his  plans  were  abandoned.  His  packing 
was  forgotten.  He  was  afraid  to  leave  his  room, 
afraid  to  be  seen.  He  decided  on  a  dozen  different 
things  in  a  dozen  different  minutes. 

Towards  noon  he  believed  the  best  course  was  to 
stay  quietly  indoors  until  dark.  If  he  could  pay  his 
bill  and  leave  the  lodging-house  in  safety,  the  chances 
were  excellent  for  his  getting  away.  Once  on  the 
train,  he  had  little  to  worry  over.  But  hope  of  escape 
brought  no  freedom  from  the  horror  that  had  fastened 
itself  upon  the  boy.  His  face  took  on  a  haunted  look. 
Vaguely  he  saw  danger  closing  in  on  him  from  all 
sides. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  41 

In  the  early  afternoon  the  sky  darkened.  It  began 
to  rain.  A  fine,  cold  drizzle  at  first,  covering  the  win- 
dow, dripping  incessantly  from  the  eaves.  Jarvis 
watched  the  storm,  his  imhappiness  increasing  with  the 
titter  cheerlessness.  He  was  faint  from  hunger.  His 
courage  was  gone.  Hope  was  lost.  He  had  stolen 
and  murdered,  yet  never  for  a  moment  meaning  to  do 
either.  He  had  nowhere  to  go,  no  one  to  help  him. 
He  stood  facing  the  world  with  a  double  crime  hung  to 
his  shoulders,  a  dead  weight  that  he  would  never  be 
permitted  to  lay  aside.  He,  who  had  never  willingly 
hurt  a  living  thing,  was  a  murderer.  He,  whose  one 
ambition  was  to  bring  about  some  Utopian  plan  of 
life,  was  a  thief — a  stealer  of  women's  money. 

Completely  unnerved,  he  gave  way  to  his  grief. 
Tears  filled  his  eyes,  dropping  slowly  down  over  his 
cheeks.  After  a  long  time  he  raised  his  head,  choking 
back  his  sobs.  It  was  dark  and  nearly  time  for  him  to 
be  making  a  move, — to  be  going  on  his  way  and  taking 
his  chance  of  getting  out  of  the  city. 

The  boy  resumed  his  delayed  packing.  When  at 
last  he  stood  ready  to  go,  his  hat  and  coat  on,  the  tele- 
scope closed,  strapped  and  in  his  hand,  he  gave  a  final 
look  about.  Nothing  was  left  behind.  He  unlocked 
the  door,  turned  off  the  gas,  and,  peering  into  the  corri- 
dor to  see  that  it  was  empty,  Jarvis  started.  In  his 
heart  he  had  little  hope  of  getting  out  of  the  house. 
He  believed  already  he  was  stamped  as  a  criminal. 
His  trip  down  the  hall  and  through  the  streets  was  like 


42  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

the  fleeing  of  a  terror-stricken  animal.  He  turned 
every  corner  wide,  his  head  in  the  air.  The  suspense 
of  the  thing  was  terrible,  but  to  his  utter  amazement 
not  a  suspicious  glance  was  cast  his  way. 

In  spite  of  this,  once  outside,  a  desire  to  run  hounded 
him  so  insistently  that  he  fought  himself  to  keep  at  a 
walk.  The  distance  was  interminable.  It  seemed  as  if 
he  would  never  arrive  at  the  station.  He  wanted  to  get 
on,  get  rid  of  crowds,  get  away  from  the  haunts  of 
men  where  the  very  stones  in  the  streets  proclaimed 
him  a  murderer. 

He  settled  himself  on  the  train,  breathless,  ex- 
hausted, his  nerves  on  edge.  Immediately  he  wished 
he  had  not  come  so  soon.  He  should  have  waited  until 
the  last  second ;  after  all  possibility  was  gone  of  any- 
one's following  him.  It  would  be  a  simple  matter  to 
trap  him,  boxed  up  in  a  car  like  this.  If  he  had  had 
any  brains,  any  forethought,  he  would  have  hung 
around  like  a  sightseer,  then  swung  on  the  train  when 
it  was  in  actual  motion.  The  deception  would  have 
been  masterly. 

The  boy  fretted  and  fumed.  He  saw  in  every  ar- 
rival a  probable  spy.  Every  face  turned  in  his  direc- 
tion alarmed  him.  He  was  certain  his  own  foolish- 
ness was  bound  to  be  his  undoing. 

But  the  train  finally  got  under  way  with  him  still  a 
free  man.  Then  Jarvis  took  courage.  He  settled 
back  in  the  section ;  later  he  bought  a  paper  of  the  news 
agent.  He  had  wanted  that  paper  all  day  long,  but 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  43 

had  been  afraid  to  buy  it.  He  could  hardly  wait  to 
find  out  what  really  had  happened  up  there  in  that 
grove  after  he  left.  But  after  the  purchase,  Jarvis 
could  not  bring  himself  to  read.  He  pretended  to  look 
over  the  headlines,  then  he  tucked  the  sheet  into  his 
pocket  and  sauntered  up  ahead  into  the  smoking-car. 
"When  his  berth  was  made  and  he  was  shielded  by  the 
heavy  curtains  from  the  gaze  of  the  passengers,  he 
opened  the  paper  wide. 

It  was  all  there.  With  a  gasp  he  realized  that.  He 
read  the  details  of  the  grove,  the  description  of  the  man 
with  the  ulster.  The  paper  gave  his  name  as  Foster 
Meredith.  He  had  been  discovered  alive  and  con- 
scious, but  helpless.  Once  at  the  hospital  he  had  asked 
for  paper,  pencil,  and  envelope.  With  great  effort 
he  had  written  a  few  lines,  then  with  much  secrecy  in- 
closed in  the  envelope  something  that  he  folded  care- 
fully. He  offered  the  information  that  he  was  sending 
a  keepsake  to  his  brother  and  insisted  that  the  letter 
go  undisturbed,  protesting  that  it  had  no  bearing  on 
the  case;  that  it  was  purely  personal  and  as  such 
should  be  respected.  But  the  authorities  had  kept  the 
address  on  the  envelope.  The  editor  had  secured  the 
same.  It  read,  "  Gilson  Meredith,"  and  the  destina- 
tion was  a  little  town  in  California.  The  article  con- 
tinued :  "  Shortly  after  writing,  the  man  lapsed  into 
a  stupor.  He  died  late  the  same  afternoon  without 
furnishing  any  working  clue  as  to  his  murderer.  All 
he  said  on  the  subject  was  that  he  had  been  hurt  in  a 


44  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

fight  begun  by  an  unwarranted  attack  upon  him  from 
an  unknown*  man.  Detectives  have  been  put  upon  the 
case,  but  they  acknowledge  there  is  little  to  go  upon, 
although  they  are  hopeful  something  may  develop 
shortly." 

That  was  all,  but  it  was  enough.  There  was  no 
possibility  of  doubts  now.  Jarvis  put  the  paper  down. 
He  had  learned  a  good  deal,  but  what  had  that  en- 
velope contained  ?  The  envelope  directed  to  a  place  in 
California,  the  state  he  himself  was  headed  for.  After 
all  his  precaution,  it  seemed  that  he  was  literally  walk- 
ing from  the  frying-pan  into  the  fire.  Was  it  not  more 
than  probable  that  this  Meredith  would  give  to  his 
brother  information  he  withheld  from  the  police? 

Jarvis  argued  that  the  circumstances  leading  to  the 
fight  could  hardly  be  told  by  the  dying  man  without 
seriously  involving  his  reputation.  Reason  enough 
for  him  to  keep  still  before  the  authorities.  But  with 
his  own  brother  it  was  a  different  matter.  Probably 
he  had  written  the  details  in  the  letter.  Details  that 
later  could  be  used  to  run  the  boy  to  earth.  Yet  here 
he  was  with  his  eyes  open,  heading  straight  into  the 
trap. 

The  boy  shook  his  head.  His  eyes  narrowed. 
"  Not  much !  "  he  whispered,  between  his  set  teeth. 
"  I  never  meant  to  kill  him,  but  as  long  as  I've  done 
it,  I'll  see  the  thing  through.  And  win — yes,  win. 
I'll  make  a  stand  against  whatever  it  is  that's  playing 
me  so  hard.  I'll  fight  for  my  freedom  till  hope  is 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  45 

gone,  all  gone."  Life  had  suddenly  become  sweet  to 
him,  sweeter,  more  to  be  desired  than  ever  before. 

For  four  days  the  excursion  train  rolled  on  toward 
the  southwest,  plunging  through  the  country,  herald- 
ing its  approach  with  warning  shrieks  of  danger.  On 
the  afternoon  of  the  fourth  day  the  aspect  of  the  coun- 
try changed.  From  the  flat,  level  surface  of  prairie 
land,  mountains  suddenly  appeared  on  the  horizon, 
group  after  group,  bounding  the  entire  section  with  a 
seemingly  impassable  barrier.  Still  the  train  pushed  on 
its  way,  twisting,  turning,  rounding  sharp  curves,  its 
progress  unimpeded. 

Hourly  the  landscape  became  more  desolate.  By 
degrees  even  the  crude  civilization  of  the  prairies  was 
lost.  Solitude  and  desolation  marked  everything. 
Then  all  at  once  the  desert  lay  spread  before  them. 
Miles  upon  miles  of  barren  sand  and  dust,  broken 
here  and  there  by  deep  canons  or  an  occasional  crest 
of  rocky  formation, — a  vast  sink  of  white  alkali,  a  ter- 
rible valley  of  death.  As  far  as  the  eye  could  reach 
there  were  no  living  things,  no  semblance  of  human 
habitation. 

The  air  that  had  grown  continually  warmer  now 
became  motionless.  Jarvis,  sitting  close  to  the  win- 
dow, mopped  his  face.  It  seemed  to  him  that  he 
could  scarcely  breathe.  His  throat  was  gritty,  his 
mouth  parched,  but  for  all  the  discomforts,  that  desert 
exerted  a  strange  fascination  over  him.  Its  loneli- 
ness, its  measureless  leagues  of  dazzling  white  surface, 


4G  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

expanding  and  widening  into  the  distance  for  miles 
and  miles,  brought  a  sensation  of  security.  Even 
water  had  been  left  behind  here,  every  drop  of  mois- 
ture dried  up  by  the  broiling  sun. 

Close  to  the  track,  following  it  with  barely  a  swerve 
to  right  or  left,  was  the  long  trail  through  the  region. 
It  went  on  and  on  receding  towards  the  horizon,  in- 
hospitable, sun-cracked,  openly  vengeful  against  in- 
truders. As  if  in  proof  of  this,  all  along  the  edge  of 
the  road  lay  skeletons  of  animals,  and  bones  whitening 
under  the  incessant  sun,  taking  on  the  semblance  of 
the  alkali.  Once  they  whirled  by  the  wreck  of  a 
prairie  schooner.  Jarvis  shuddered.  "  I  wonder  what 
happened, — whether  the  people  died,  or  went  back, 
or  were  picked  up  by  someone,"  he  muttered. 

The  fine  white  sand  swept  in  blinding  clouds  through 
the  cars.  The  heat  was  all  but  unendurable.  By  de- 
grees even  the  endless  trail  grew  fainter  as  if  dis- 
couraged at  the  prospect  that  lay  before  it.  But  the 
train  raced  westward,  undaunted,  unmastered,  and 
Jarvis  stared  out  of  his  window. 

"  I  should  think  it  might  be  possible  to  work  back 
without  crossing  this  place.  Go  around  by  those  hills. 
There  ought  to  be  water  up  there,"  he  told  himself, 
his  eyes  wandering  to  the  peaks  barely  outlined  against 
the  darkening  sky.  Vast  naked  hills,  unlovely  and  un- 
inviting, but  carrying  with  them  the  possibilities  of 
moisture  and  shade. 

"  This  country  is  safe.     The  very  look  of  it  would 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  47 

stave  off  detectives.  They  wouldn't  dare  follow  me 
here,"  he  thought,  his  mind  flying  back  to  the  city  and 
to  the  men  who  were  "  to  look  up  his  case." 

Then  and  there  the  boy  resolved  on  a  plan  of  action, 
which  had  not  occurred  to  him  before.  It  involved  a 
tedious,  trying,  and  perhaps  serious  journey,  but  a 
trip  that,  once  accomplished,  meant  absolute  safety. 
He  would  throw  his  pursuers  off  the  scent  by  leaving 
the  train  before  it  reached  its  destination.  He  could 
go  without  saying  a  word  to  passengers  or  trainmen. 
Free  of  this  excursion,  he  would  work  his  way  back 
out  of  California  into  Arizona  or  even  Texas  if  he  had 
luck.  Avoiding  railroads,  except  as  they  served  for 
a  guide,  he  would  cross  the  desert.  Hardships  would 
be  a  positive  relief,  knowing  that  the  farther  he  went 
on  his  way  through  that  basin  of  sand  and  dust,  the 
surer  he  would  be  of  getting  beyond  all  reach. 

The  prospect  pleased  the  boy  immensely.  Once  set- 
tled, he  would  adapt  himself  to  new  conditions.  The 
old  ambition  would  reassert  itself ;  the  idea  of  the  fu- 
ture with  its  Utopian  schemes  would  yet  be  brought 
forward.  Yes,  it  was  a  great  idea.  Those  Mere- 
diths should  not  be  his  undoing. 

Volcano  Springs  was  passed,  then  Frink  and  Dur- 
mid.  It  had  grown  dark.  The  sun  hung  low  in  the 
horizon,  the  distant  rocks  lay  against  the  sky  like  a 
line  of  black  clouds.  But  the  air  had  become  delicious- 
ly  cool,  almost  exhilarating. 

"  The  next  place  I'll  get  off.     The  very  next  sta- 


48  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

tion,"  Jarvis  told  himself,  poring  over  his  folder. 
"  Salton — five  minutes'  stop,"  he  read,  nodding  his 
head.  The  place  presented  no  definite  idea  to  his 
mind,  but  it  would  do.  "  Yes,  I'll  get  off  there  at 
Salton." 

He  collected  his  things,  carefully  repacking  his  tele- 
scope. He  brushed  his  hat  and  clothes  and  shook  out 
his  overcoat.  Then  he  went  into  the  men's  wash- 
room, cleaning  the  cinders  and  dust  from  his  face, 
hands,  and  neck  with  a  great  splashing  of  water. 

The  engine  had  whistled  for  the  stop  before  Jarvis 
was  all  ready.  When  the  passengers  had  filed  out  of 
the  car,  marching  up  and  down  the  platform  for  a 
breath  of  fresh  air,  Jarvis  picked  up  his  belongings. 
He  walked  through  the  train  to  the  last  car.  There 
he  waited. 

As  the  conductor  cried,  "  All  aboard ! "  the  boy 
stepped  off  unnoticed  in  the  scramble  and  rush.  The 
porters  began  taking  up  the  steps.  The  signal  to  go 
ahead  was  given  to  the  engineer.  Jarvis  felt  the  vi- 
bration of  the  rails  as  the  train  started  up.  The  great 
cars  swung  along,  gaining  momentum  with  every  turn 
of  the  wheels,  sliding  along  the  final  stretch  of  desert. 

To  the  boy  who  watched,  it  seemed  a  veritable  thing 
of  life, — a  long,  coiling  serpent  of  heat  and  smoke  and 
motion,  shaking  its  head  in  deadly  anger,  belching 
forth  steam  and  fire,  ready  to  strike  its  venom  into 
anything  that  sought  its  hindrance. 

Long  after  the  roar  had  diminished  to  a  faint  mur- 


Ill-:   ADVAXCKI)   CAUTIOUSLY   TO  MEREDITH'S  SIDE.  — Pu.nv  34. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  49 

mur,  Jarvis  could  still  catch  the  gleam  of  the  two  sig- 
nal lanterns  on  the  last  car.  But  finally  he  turned. 
There  was  no  longer  anything  to  be  seen  save  the 
illimitable  waste  as  far  as  the  gaze  could  travel. 

A  sense  of  melancholy  fell  over  him.  It  was  as  if 
with  the  disappearing  of  that  excursion  train  he  had 
cut  himself  adrift  from  everything, — people,  home, 
country,  even  his  own  individuality. 


50  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Salton  might  well  have  stood  for  the  terminus  of  the 
world.  It  was  a  one-street  town,  very  lonely,  very 
desolate,  with  a  hotel,  post-office,  drug  store,  livery 
stable  and  two  bar-rooms  for  its  principal  buildings. 

On  Jarvis'  arrival  at  the  hotel,  where  for  some  un- 
accountable reason  he  registered  as  J.  Jarvis,  Texas, 
he  went  directly  to  bed.  Not  for  a  week  had  he  slept. 
His  mind  ached  with  thinking  and  trying  to  plan  his 
way  through  the  coming  months.  He  settled  himself 
in  his  blankets  with  a  big  sigh  of  comfort.  He  was 
not  afraid  to-night.  But  it  was  the  first  night  since 
the  crime  that  he  had  not  suffered  miserably.  Now 
he  was  literally  out  of  the  world,  in  a  strange  place, 
surrounded  by  strange  people.  North,  south,  east, 
and  west  lay  the  stretch  of  land  everyone  avoided. 
There  was  nothing,  absolutely  nothing  to  fear. 

Through  the  whole  night  he  scarcely  stirred,  but  at 
daylight  the  intense  silence  wakened  the  boy.  He  sat 
on  the  edge  of  his  bed  dressing  slowly,  wondering  how 
he  would  spend  the  day.  From  his  window  he  could 
see  a  group  of  saddle-horses  fastened  to  trees  and 
posts.  Homely,  hardy  creatures,  each  one  carrying  a 
heavy  Mexican  saddle,  clumsy,  complicated,  very 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  51 

elaborate,  with  a  long  lariat  coiled  over  the  high  front 
pommel. 

As  soon  as  he  was  dressed  he  went  down  to  break- 
fast. The  dining-room  was  small  and  bare.  One 
long  table  ran  crossways  the  width  of  the  room. 
Very  hungry,  Jarvis  took  his  seat,  interested  beyond 
words  in  what  he  saw.  Miners,  cow-punchers,  cattle- 
rangers,  sat  all  around  him.  Relics  of  a  famous  epoch, 
the  last  remnant  of  a  picturesque,  romantic  West.  It 
took  no  imagination  to  behold  in  each  man  the  hero 
of  some  hair-raising  adventure.  Their  very  clothing 
smacked  of  melodrama.  The  bright-colored  shirt, 
low  in  the  neck,  a  handkerchief  knotted  about  the 
throat;  the  heavy  cartridge-belt  strapped  around  the 
waist;  a  pistol-holster  on  the  thigh  holding  a  six- 
shooter  loaded,  cocked,  ready  for  instant  use;  hairy 
trousers  falling  low  over  big  boots  heeled  with  spurs 
of  solid  silver,  long,  sharp,  cruel,  clanking  at  every 
step. 

Every  man  of  them  breathed  the  chivalry  of  the 
plains.  It  was  romance  that  surrounded  Jarvis.  Ro- 
mance hobnobbing  with  him  over  the  plates  and  cups. 

These  chevaliers  took  breakfast  by  assault,  talking 
little,  eating  noisily,  disdaining  napkins  and  forks. 
When  anything  was  said,  it  concerned  round-ups, 
wonderful  strikes  back  in  the  hills,  stray  cattle,  or  some 
fine  steer  recently  killed  on  the  tracks. 

Jarvis  watched  his  neighbors  covertly,  listening 
curiously  to  hear  the  exchange  of  phrases.  Not  until 


52  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

these  men  had  drawn  away  from  the  table  did  the  boy 
notice  the  little  group  on  his  left.  For  fully  ten  sec- 
onds his  eyes  rested  on  them,  and  at  the  sight  he  felt 
a  sudden  shock.  There  was  nothing  theatrical  there. 
One  glance,  and  the  air  of  romance  that  had  tingled 
through  the  boy's  nostrils  gave  place  to  a  sobering 
breath  of  reality. 

There  was  trouble  here, — trouble  for  which  there 
was  no  relief.  One  had  no  need  to  ask  what;  nor 
was  there  a  person  in  all  Salton  who  did  not  know  the 
story  of  this  father,  mother,  and  little  child.  Although 
the  three  had  been  in  the  place  less  than  a  week,  the 
circumstances  of  their  coming  had  been  enough  to 
make  the  Crossleys  subject  for  current  talk 

They  had  driven  into  town  one  night  from  out  of  the 
desert  long  after  dark.  In  the  middle  of  the  street 
one  horse  collapsed,  the  blood  pouring  from  his  eyes, 
unable  to  stand.  In  the  wagon  John  Crossley  lay  bleed- 
ing his  life  away  from  a  prolonged  hemorrhage  that 
the  wife  had  not  been  able  to  check.  A  poor,  little, 
white-faced  woman,  trembling  on  the  verge  of  a  swoon 
from  terror  and  the  violence  of  her  grief. 

Afterwards  she  was  never  quite  clear  just  what  had 
happened.  She  only  remembered  vaguely  John's  sud- 
den prostration,  miles  away  from  help.  The  sight  of 
that  red  blood  trickling  from  between  his  white  lips 
would  live  forever  in  her  vision.  She  recalled  her 
frantic  endeavors  to  check  it,  the  fearful  drive  through 
the  sand  and  heat  when  it  seemed  that  John  could  not 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  53 

live,  nor  the  horses  survive  the  strain  of  such  a  gait. 
Still  she  raced  them  on,  defying  every  obstacle,  even 
death  itself,  in  her  determination  to  get  help  for  her 
husband. 

From  the  doctor  the  people  heard  the  story;  not 
only  of  that  drive,  but  of  the  trip  from  California  to 
Arizona,  across  that  burning  desert,  with  its  one  faint 
trail  marked  in  the  merciless  alkali.  The  family  had 
only  a  wagon  for  shelter  because  they  had  no  money 
for  railroad  fare.  It  was  a  desperate  journey,  under- 
taken as  a  last  chance  for  saving  the  man's  life 

The  first  intimation  of  her  husband's  serious  condi- 
tion came  to  Janet  Crossley  with  the  shock  of  a  great 
calamity.  She  looked  up  at  the  doctor,  her  eyes  big 
with  anxiety,  and  when  he  had  told  her  all  he  had  to 
say,  she  sat  speechless;  the  great  silence  that  invari- 
ably follows  doom,  widening  about  her. 

There  was  one  chance — only  one,  but  worth  trying. 
Arizona  air  might  heal  if  once  he  could  be  gotten  to 
that  state.  For  a  long  time  she  remained  motionless 
by  the  open  window,  staring  across  the  country  with 
unseeing  eyes.  But  when  at  last  she  came  to  herself, 
seeming  to  waken  from  out  the  dream  years  of  past 
happiness  into  the  present  of  anxiety,  a  fierce  courage 
possessed  her.  She  showed  a  superb  conviction  that 
John  would  improve  directly  the  start  was  made. 
Nursing,  good  care,  no  worry,  combined  with  change 
of  air,  would  make  a  new  man  of  him.  She  was  obsti- 
nate on  the  point  of  saving  him ;  bound  that  his  lungs 
would  mend  in  the  proper  climate. 


54  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

i 

The  news  of  the  Crossleys'  trouble  made  a  commo- 
tion in  the  neighborhood.  The  women  came  in  to 
nurse  him  hours  of  every  day,  while  Janet  packed. 
Fortunately  just  at  this  time  had  come  a  chance  to  dis- 
pose of  the  little  ranch.  The  price  offered  was  absurdly 
low,  but  Janet  did  not  hesitate. 

The  thought  of  leaving  her  home  was  one  long 
agony.  Everything  in  the  house  and  outside,  for  that 
matter,  was  a  personal  friend.  Her  heart  nearly  broke 
at  the  idea  of  separation.  All  her  past  Happiness  rose 
like  a  ghost  to  emphasize  her  present  wretchedness. 

How  well  she  remembered  when  first  they  had  come 
to  this  home  together!-  They  had  been  so  contented, 
working  all  day  long  to  set  things  right,  seeing  a  great 
future  in  their  ranch.  She  had  loved  every  piece  of 
furniture,  every  kitchen  utensil,  every  vine  and  tree 
and  shrub.  They  were  part  of  her  own  family,  but 
now  she  was  to  leave  them  all.  Someone  else  was 
to  have  them, — someone  who  would  never  care  for 
them,  or  look  after  them,  or  love  them  as  she  had  done. 

Night  after  night  when  she  was  sure  John  slept, 
Janet,  fairly  sick  with  unhappiness,  sobbed  out  her 
grief.  But  she  guarded  her  tears  jealously.  In  his 
presence  her  cheeriness  was  infectious.  She  was  con- 
tinually finding  circumstances  that  demanded  expres- 
sions of  gratitude.  It  was  providential,  for  instance, 
that  she  and  John  owned  two  strong  horses;  that  the 
wagon  was  big  enough  to  hold  the  three  of  them  with 
the  things  necessary  to  make  them  comfortable. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  55 

During  all  the  weeks  of  the  trip,  if  there  were  any 
doubts  in  her  mind  whether  the  change  to  Arizona 
would  benefit  her  husband,  at  least  John  never  saw 
them.  Once,  on  a  day  when  he  seemed  a  little  better 
and  stronger  than  for  weeks  past,  a  reaction  came  over 
her.  She  went  away  hurriedly  by  herself,  "  for  a 
walk,"  she  said.  But  in  the  freedom  of  complete  soli- 
tude she  gave  way,  her  face  bathed  in  tears,  her 
body  worn  out  with  excessive  fatigue.  But  greater 
than  her  anxiety  was  her  revolt  against  what  she  knew 
was  inevitable.  Flinging  out  her  hands  in  a  great 
pathetic  appeal,  she  cried  aloud  to  God  to  spare  John 
though  all  else  was  taken. 

She  came  back  calm,  smiling,  no  evidences  of  her 
grief  visible.  She  climbed  into  the  wagon,  picked  up 
the  reins  and  drove  on,  singing,  talking,  planning  great 
things  for  their  future  when  he  was  quite  well  again. 
Nor  did  the  man  dream  that  her  vitality  was  being 
sapped  to  the  source  for  him. 

She  did  not  tell  Salton's  doctor  this  part  of  the  story, 
but  the  man,  looking  at  her  gray-white  face,  under- 
stood and  shook  his  head. 

"  Have  you  ever  had  any  trouble  with  your  heart  ?  " 
he  asked,  suddenly. 

"  I  think  it's  broken,"  she  whispered,  yielding  to  an 
impulse  of  confidence. 

"  Poor  little  woman,"  he  said.  "  Poor  little 
woman !  " 

But  she  smiled  at  him  through  the  haze  of  tears: 
"  It  will  mend  again  when  John  improves." 


56  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

Less  than  an  hour  later  the  doctor,  surrounded  by  a 
group  of  men,  recounted  the  whole  affair.  "  It  is  a 
question  in  my  mind  which  of  the  two  goes  first.  At 
any  rate  neither  one  will  be  left  behind  long." 

The  pathos  of  the  story  moved  every  man  who  heard 
it.  Instantly  the  compassion  of  brotherly  love  was 
stirred  to  the  quick.  Everyone  had  offers  of  help  to 
send.  The  liveryman  took  the  two  fagged  horses  to 
his  stable,  doctoring,  feeding,  and  caring  for  them  free 
of  charge.  The  druggist  asked  the  privilege  of  fur- 
nishing all  medicine  necessary  to  the  Crossleys;  the 
hotel  proprietor  offered  them  the  freedom  of  his 
house,  lodging  and  board  as  long  as  they  cared  to 
stay.  All  Salton  stood  ready,  anxious  to  do  what  it 
could  to  tide  the  Crossleys  over  their  misfortunes. 

"  Oh,  it  is  good  in  them.  After  all,  sympathy  and 
kindness  count  most  in  the  world,"  Janet  told  her  hus- 
band. He  acquiesced  feebly,  nodding  his  head. 

The  Crossleys  accepted  the  landlord's  offer,  eating 
their  meals  at  his  table.  When  they  came  in  to  dinner, 
Jarvis  turned  to  them  and  spoke.  Almost  at  once  a 
conversation  ensued.  Before  the  dinner  was  ended, 
the  boy  and  Theo  had  become  great  friends.  The  lit- 
tle girl  began  a  game.  She  would  reach  over  unex- 
pectedly, trying  to  get  her  hand  on  Jarvis'  salt-cellar 
without  his  knowing  it.  Just  at  the  moment  when 
the  stratagem  seemed  to  be  working,  Jarvis  would 
turn,  pretending  to  make  a  grab  for  her.  Invariably 
the  little  girl  gave  a  nervous  shriek  of  delight,  jerking 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  57 

back  with  her  whole  body,  hiding  her  hands  under  the 
table.  Her  laugh  was  so  infectious,  everyone  shouted 
with  her.  Immediately  Jarvis  turned  sideways  to  the 
table,  his  back  to  her,  and  the  entire  proceeding  re- 
commenced, repeated  in  detail. 

The  same  night  Theodora  fell  fast  asleep  during 
supper,  her  head  nodding  over  the  arm  of  the  chair. 
When  finally  her  mother  picked  her  up,  Jarvis  whis- 
pered, "  Let  me  carry  her  to  the  wagon." 

The  mother  smiled,  handed  over  the  baby  and 
turned  to  help  her  husband.  The  walk  was  not  far 
and  it  was  taken  in  silence,  but  it  was  on  the  way  back 
that  a  new  idea  began  to  frame  itself  in  the  boy's 
mind.  He  wandered  about  Salton,  his  thoughts  still 
persistent  on  the  subject.  He  began  to  discuss  it  with 
himself,  and  the  longer  he  viewed  the  situation,  the 
surer  he  became  that  the  scheme  was  an  excellent  one. 

It  concerned  his  joining  company  with  the  Cross- 
leys,  riding  on  in  their  wagon  instead  of  walking  back 
as  he  intended.  He  could  well  afford  to  pay  something 
for  this  trip.  More  than  this,  he  would  be  a  help  to 
Mrs.  Crossley  in  caring  for  the  animals  and  looking 
after  her  husband.  He  was  even  sure  he  could  relieve 
her  at  times  of  Theo.  If  they  would  have  him  and 
could  make  room  for  him,  he  would  do  it.  He  would 
run  no  risks.  He  would  save  himself  a  walk  that,  if 
not  wholly  impossible,  was  yet  heavy  with  dangers  and 
inexpressibly  lonely. 

Early  the  next  morning  Jarvis  went  to  the  proprie- 


58  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

tor,  broaching  the  subject  to  him  with  an  assumed  in- 
difference. He  wanted  to  be  certain  this  landlord 
had  no  suspicions.  But  on  the  instant  the  man  saw 
in  Jarvis'  suggestion  a  furthering  of  the  Salton  good- 
will. He  clapped  the  boy  heavily  between  his  shoul- 
ders, asserting  his  readiness  to  take  the  matter  up  per- 
sonally and  to  arrange  the  thing  with  the  Crossleys 
at  the  first  opportunity. 

In  the  midst  of  their  talk,  Janet  came  to  the  door. 
She  stopped  to  say  that  her  husband  was  asleep  now 
but  had  had  a  bad  night.  She  had  decided  to  continue 
the  journey  that  very  day.  She  had  been  to  see  the 
liveryman  and  found  the  horses  were  able  to  be  driven, 
provided  they  were  not  pushed  too  fast.  John  must 
get  through.  She  was  afraid  of  these  delays.  She 
told  this  to  the  two  men,  her  voice  tremulous  with 
emotion. 

The  landlord  turned  his  gaze  from  the  woman  and 
let  it  rest  steadily  on  the  boy  beside  him.  Jarvis 
flushed.  He  shifted  his  feet  awkwardly. 

"Mrs.  Crossley,"  began  the  proprietor,  oratorically, 
"  if  we  must  lose  you — we  must ;  but  it  would  make  us 
all,  I  speak  now  for  every  citizen  in  this  town,  it  would 
make  us  easier  in  our  minds  to  know  that  someone 
was  with  you,  someone  who  could  be  a  help  in  time  of 
need,  a  kind  of  strength  for  you  to  lean  upon." 

He  was  talking  suavely.  Mrs.  Crossley  looked  up 
surprised,  very  interested.  "  Your  goodness  to  me,— 
to  us,  is  something  I  shall  never  forget,"  she  murmured. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  59 

"  Then  let  me  ask  a  favor  of  you.  This  young  man 
here  at  my  left  has  offered — in  fact,  wants  to  go  with 
you  in  the  wagon.  I  can  vouch  for  his  goodness  and 
honesty."  Jarvis  started  nervously.  "  It  might  be, 
Mrs.  Crossley,  you'd  need  someone, — need  help  bad 
at  some  stage  of  your  trip.  Could  you  take  him 
along?"  The  question  was  put. 

But  before  Mrs.  Crossley  could  speak,  Jarvis  said 
quietly  and  with  a  certain  delicacy,  "  I  do  not  want  to 
be  a  burden,  Mrs.  Crossley.  It  is  like  this  :  I  am  going 
in  your  direction.  I  intended  to  walk.  If  you  have 
room  and  will  let  me  pay  my  way  for  the  right  to  ride 
with  you,  I  shall  be  grateful.  I  should  want  also  to 
do  my  share  of  the  work,  to  take  the  man's  part  in 
everything  that  comes  up.  But  I  do  not  want  the 
mere  fact  of  doing  me  a  favor  to  influence  you. 
Please  be  quite  frank  in  the  matter." 

Mrs.  Crossley's  lips  quivered.  She  agreed  at  once. 
What  that  offer  meant  to  her  no  one  would  ever  know. 
There  was  not  a  single  argument  against  it  in  her 
mind.  Already  the  dread  of  continuing  alone  on  this 
disastrous  journey  had  eaten  into  her  heart  hour  after 
hour.  She  began  to  have  a  presentiment  that  her  ex- 
istence would  drag  out  to  eternity  on  the  desert  that 
stretched  out  before  her  like  a  gloomy  abyss,  yawning 
wide  open,  waiting  to  receive  her  in  its  depths.  The 
mere  thought  of  companionship  took  away  half  the  hor- 
ror. Janet  seized  the  boy's  hand.  A  lump  rose  in  her 
throat,  choking  her  so  that  she  spoke  hesitatingly. 


60  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

"  I  can't  say  much.  The  words  won't  come.  You 
don't  know  how  I  thank  you  for  what  you  are  doing. 
Some  time,  later,  I  can  tell  you  better  what  it  means." 

The  quick  color  swept  into  Jarvis'  face.  Her  grati- 
tude stung  him.  If  he  had  been  alone,  he  would  have 
explained  from  shame  that  he  was  making  use  of  her 
misfortune  to  cover  his  tracks.  Seeking  protection 
under  the  cloak  of  kindliness.  He  was  inexpressibly 
thankful  when  Mrs.  Crossley  turned  away  abruptly, 
going  into  the  dining-room.  Nor  did  he  see  her  again 
during  the  morning. 

The  truth  was,  the  boy  kept  closely  to  his  own  room, 
for  the  sense  of  pursuit  that  had  left  him  on  his  arrival 
was  harassing  him  again.  "  It's  a  good  thing  I  don't 
have  to  take  trains,"  he  muttered  to  himself.  '  They'd 
watch  trains  if  they  watched  anything,  but  they  will 
never  think  of  following  a  wagon  wheeling  across  this 
place." 

It  was  nearly  twelve  o'clock  when  word  came  from 
Mrs.  Crossley  that  they  would  leave  that  very  after- 
noon,— about  four,  if  the  hour  suited  him.  At  once 
Jarvis  explained  to  the  proprietor.  He  paid  his  bill 
and  took  his  departure.  A  crowd  had  collected  to  see 
the  Crossleys  off.  When  the  party  finally  started,  half 
the  population  of  Salton  turned  out  to  wish  them  good 
luck,  calling  after  the  wagon,  shouting  messages,  wav- 
ing farewells. 

The  wagon  worked  its  way  slowly  eastward,  follow- 
ing close  beside  the  line  of  railroad  track  that  stretched 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  61 

away  into  the  distance,  on  and  on  as  far  as  the  eye 
could  reach.  Before  many  minutes  Salton  was  left 
behind,  a  faint  dot  on  the  horizon,  losing  itself  by 
degrees  in  the  immensity  of  the  great  solitude. 

The  afternoon  was  magnificent.  Not  a  cloud  lay  in 
the  sky.  The  sun,  midway  between  the  zenith  and  the 
horizon,  beat  down  on  the  baked  earth,  the  atmosphere 
laden  with  the  heat  from  its  rays.  Occasionally  the 
party  passed  a  few  cattle;  wild-eyed,  timid  creatures, 
pitifully  thin,  grazing  on  the  few  hard  tufts  of  sage- 
brush. To  Jarvis  they  seemed  to  be  waiting  slow 
death  from  starvation.  Once  or  twice  a  cowboy  gal- 
loped past,  picturesque,  gay,  waving  a  salute  as  he 
flew  by,  presenting  a  vast  contrast  to  the  desolate  sur- 
roundings. 

But  for  all  the  primal  loneliness,  the  evening  was 
beautiful.  As  the  sun  fell,  the  whole  desert  shim- 
mered in  a  glow  of  wonderful  color.  The  deep  purple 
shadows  ran  back  until  they  met  with  the  very  sky  it- 
self, mingling  into  the  pale  blue  of  the  heavens  and 
the  rose  pink  of  the  setting  sun.  The  great  silence  was 
unbroken.  This  place,  shunned  by  men,  was  shunned 
alike  by  sound.  There  was  not  a  breath  of  air,  not  a 
rustle,  not  a  movement.  To  Jarvis  there  was  some- 
thing splendid  in  this  huge  heat-scourged  region,  un- 
touched by  progress,  untamed  by  civilization.  He  be- 
gan to  wonder  if  the  earth  here  could  vibrate  to  the 
touch  of  man,  if  deep  in  its  bosom  there  slept  a  re- 
sponsive chord  that  might  awaken  to  the  caress  of  one 
who  understood  its  need, 


62  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

They  made  no  stop  until  long  after  dark.  Finally, 
at  nine  the  horses  were  unhitched,  watered  and  fed; 
then  Jarvis,  taking  a  blanket,  spread  it  on  the  sand  and 
stretched  himself  full  length  on  his  back.  Never  had 
he  seen  so  many  stars.  They  studded  every  inch  of 
the  blue-black  heavens.  He  stared  and  stared  until 
his  eyes  blinked  with  sleep,  then  he  sat  up  to  take  off 
his  shoes  and  his  coat.  He  resettled  himself  comfort- 
ably, using  the  coat  for  a  pillow,  and  almost  immedi- 
ately the  boy  fell  into  a  heavy  slumber. 

By  six  o'clock  breakfast  was  eaten  and  the  wagon 
under  way  again.  The  day  was  an  exact  repetition  of 
the  preceding  one.  Not  a  cloud  to  be  seen,  the  heat 
increasing  as  the  sun  rose.  Before  long  the  horses 
dripped  with  sweat,  their  flanks  heaving  with  every 
breath. 

Jarvis  held  the  reins.  Beside  him  was  Mrs.  Cross- 
ley  with  Theo  in  her  lap,  shading  the  child's  face  from 
the  glare  of  the  alkali.  In  the  wagon  John  Crossley 
lay  gasping  for  breath,  helpless,  motionless,  his  eyes 
moving  continually  in  shifting  restlessness. 

There  was  little  talking.  Sometimes  Theo  sat  up 
explaining  at  great  length  why  she  should  drive,  see- 
ing exciting  things  in  that  monotonous  waste,  laugh- 
ing with  glee  when  the  wagon  lurched  in  the  cracked 
earth.  But  the  tremendous  quiet  was  awe-inspiring. 
It  took  away  all  desire  to  speak.  By  noon  the  heat  was 
so  intense  a  halt  was  made.  Their  lunch  was  eaten 
and  the  horses  cared  for.  But  the  animals  were  so 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  63 

worn  out  that  the  rest  was  prolonged.  It  was  nearly 
four  o'clock  before  it  seemed  safe  to  make  a  fresh 
start.  When  night  came,  Janet  said  to  Jarvis : 

"  We  can't  crawl  along  like  this.  We  have  gone 
only  twenty  miles  to-day.  For  John's  sake  we  must 
hurry.  We  must."  Her  eyes  had  a  hunted  look.  All 
the  boy  could  think  of  was  some  animal  at  bay,  run  be- 
yond its  strength,  waiting  to  receive  its  death-blow. 

"  We'll  do  better  to-morrow,  it  will  probably  be 
cooler,"  he  said,  easily. 

But  instead  of  growing  cooler,  every  twenty-four 
hours  was  more  unendurable  than  the  preceding  twenty- 
four.  At  every  step  they  went  deeper  and  deeper 
into  the  heart  of  the  desert.  The  water-holes  grew 
scarcer.  The  stations  were  miles  farther  apart.  At 
times  the  trail  became  invisible,  buried  under  the 
weight  of  shifting  sand.  But  one  thing  was  certain. 
After  the  second  day  John  Crossley  improved.  He 
thrived  on  the  heat  that  sucked  the  very  life  from  the 
others.  He  even  took  his  turn  at  driving  and  re- 
gained his  cheerfulness  to  such  an  extent  that  Jarvis 
told  himself  John  Crossley  would  certainly  live.  At 
the  same  time  something  in  Janet's  face  caused  him 
great  anxiety.  Once  he  asked  if  she  were  well.  Her 
reply  came  with  a  smile. 

She  was  very  well,  only  a  little  overcome  with  the 
unusual  heat;  she  would  be  quite  herself  once  she 
could  cool  off.  But  Jarvis  was  not  satisfied.  Dimly 
he  was  aware  that  something  ailed  her  more  than  she 


64  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

was  willing  to  acknowledge, — something  besides  the 
terrific  heat.  It  was  very  evident  that  she  was  keep- 
ing up  by  her  will,  forcing  every  move  with  an  effort. 
Though  she  made  no  complaint,  more  than  once  she 
had  been  seized  with  excessive  faintness.  At  such 
times  her  lips  turned  a  queer  purple  and  Jarvis  noticed 
her  finger-nails  blue-black  against  her  white  skin. 

He  was  wretchedly  unhappy.  Daily  he  found  him- 
self trying  to  steel  his  nerves  to  meet  some  unexpected 
calamity.  Some  warning  seemed  to  be  stirring  in 
him ;  a  sickening,  uncanny  foreboding  of  disaster.  He 
kept  it  to  himself,  but  over  and  over  again  he  would 
start  and  turn  to  look,  first  at  Janet,  then  at  John,  half 
afraid  of  what  he  would  see. 

Sitting  side  by  side  hours  at  a  time,  the  boy  and  this 
woman  became  great  friends.  He  had  never  come  in 
intimate  contact  with  a  woman  before.  His  mother 
he  had  barely  known,  and  the  reverence  that  until  now 
he  had  bestowed  on  her  memory  was  transferred  to 
the  living  woman  by  his  side.  She  was  what  he  had 
always  pictured  his  own  mother  to  be, — beautiful, 
grave,  dignified,  gentle,  and  tender,  with  the  supreme 
element  of  maternal  love  so  great  in  her  nature  that 
it  went  out  to  him  as  it  might  have  to  a  son.  Almost 
from  the  first  hour  of  their  meeting  he  felt  this.  She 
took  him  to  her  heart  and  gave  him  the  first  affection 
he  had  ever  known. 

Touched  to  the  quick,  he  was  consumed  by  a  vast 
humbleness.  There  was  nothing  he  would  not  have 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  65 

done  for  her  and  hers.  No  sacrifice  he  would  not  have 
made  to  show  his  gratitude.  He  realized  all  at  once 
how  much  he  had  missed,  how  empty  his  life  had  been. 

In  thinking  of  it,  he  told  himself  that  never,  never 
would  he  have  so  forgotten  his  manhood,  SO'  assaulted 
his  honor,  as  to  commit  a  theft,  if  some  influence  like 
this  had  been  near  him. 

A  dozen  times  a  day  he  trembled  on  the  verge  of  con- 
fiding the  whole  abominable  business  to  her.  Only  his 
dread  of  her  contempt  held  the  words  from  tumbling 
out  with  their  confession.  Again  he  would  see  her 
eyes  seek  Theo  and  the  look  made  him  turn  away,  a 
sob  in  his  throat.  The  dumb  agony  in  the  mother's 
silent  glances  was  like  a  protest  against  some  inevi- 
table sentence. 

"  She's  trouble  enough  already  without  listening  to 
mine,"  Jarvis  decided. 

In  truth,  thoughts  of  the  little  girl's  future  did 
weigh  heavily  upon  Janet's  mind.  At  night  she  could 
not  rest,  but  lay  awake  torturing  herself  with  doubts 
and  questions.  Once  after  a  prolonged  silence,  during 
which  Theo  had  fallen  asleep  on  her  mother's  lap, 
Janet  said  to  Jarvis :  "  I  wouldn't  mind  if  I  were  only 
sure  about  Theo.  Sure  that  she  would  be  safe  and 
happy.  It's  thinking  what  she  will  do,  what  will  be- 
come of  her,  and  who  will  care  for  her  that  drives  me 
frantic." 

"  Mind  what?  "  he  asked,  referring  to  the  first  part 
of  her  speech. 

5 


66  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

"  John's  sickness,  for — Jarvis,  I  am  going  to  die, — 
very  soon,  perhaps  even  before  John.  I  want  to  stay 
here  until  afterward  because  he  needs  me.  But  the 
separation  will  be  short  no  matter  which  way  it  comes." 

"  You  mustn't  talk  like  that.  It's  because  you  are 
discouraged  and  tired.  When  we  get  away  from  this 
heat  you  will  both  be  better.  You  will  live  to  laugh 
over  this,  perhaps  even  to  tell  Theo's  children  about 
the  trip  over  the  desert." 

He  tried  to  speak  lightly,  but  he  knew  that  the  anx- 
iety he  felt  crept  into  his  voice.  Something  in  him 
made  him  understand  she  was  speaking  the  truth. 

Mrs.  Crossley  shook  her  head.  "  I  know,"  she  said, 
quietly.  "  For  years  I  have  had  a  weak  heart.  It's 
liable  to  stop  any  second.  It's  a  trouble  there  is  no 
cure  for,  but  it  doesn't  frighten  me.  I  am  only  afraid 
for  my  little  girl,  my  baby.  I  have  no  one  to  leave  her 
with." 

"  No  one?  "  repeated  Jarvis. 

"  No  one.  John  and  I  are  all  alone  in  the  world  ex- 
cept for  some  cousins  back  in  Pennsylvania.  All  we 
have  to  give  her  is  the  money  we  got  from  the  ranch, — 
little  enough  to  stand  between  her  and  the  world." 
She  turned  to  him,  "  Jarvis,  if  anything  should  happen 
out  here,  unexpectedly,  you  will  remember  what  I  am 
going  to  tell  you  ?  Promise  me  that.  I  feel  you  ought 
to  know  for  Theo's  sake.  John  carries  his  money  in 
a  belt  around  his  waist.  It  is  to  go  to  our  baby,  if  she's 
left  without  us."  She  raised  her  eyes  steadily  to  his. 
"  I'm  not  afraid  to  trust  you,  Jarvis." 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  67 

He  took  the  hand  she  extended,  holding  it  in  his,  re- 
turning her  gaze.  "  You  don't  know  much  of  me, 
and  I'm  not  very  good,  I  have  made  lots  of  mistakes 
in  my  life,  but  I  am  going  to  try  and  live  clean  and 
straight  from  now  on.  I  want  your  trust.  I'm  proud 
of  it.  If  I  haven't  deserved  it  in  the  past,  I'm  going 
to  in  the  future.  You  have  been  so  good  to  me  and 
you  are  the  only  one  who  ever  has  been.  I've  knocked 
around  alone  ever  since  I  was  a  little  chap,  with  no  one 
ever  to  say  a  good  morning  or  to  wish  me  luck.  Out 
here  with  you  I've  been  happy.  Even  if  I  hadn't 
wanted  to  live  honest,  I  couldn't  help  it  now  since 
you've  seemed  to  care  for  me."  The  quick  tears  were 
brimming  Janet's  eyes.  "  I  want  to  tell  you  that  if 
anything — anything  unforeseen  should  happen  out  here, 
you  needn't  have  any  fears  about  Theo,"  he  continued, 
unsteadily.  "  I  am  poor,  too,  but  I'd  never  let  the  lit- 
tle girl  suffer.  I  would  see  her  through,  do  the  very 
best  there  was  in  me." 

"  Oh,  it  was  Providence  sent  you !  "  she  cried.  "  I 
suppose  I  am  superstitious,  but  on  the  night  before  we 
left  home  I  had  a  presentiment,  a  dreadful  presenti- 
ment, which  has  never  left  me.  It  has  kept  everything 
else  out  of  my  mind.  I  have  seen  it  over  and  over 
again;  Theo  wandering  along  a  barren  road,  miles 
from  anywhere,  shelterless,  abandoned,  suffering.  Oh, 
Jarvis !  "  her  face  twitched,  "  it  has  been  anguish  be- 
yond anything  I  ever  endured.  Now  I  am  easier. 
You  don't  know  how  you  have  helped  me.  For  my 


68  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

own  sake,  I  care  nothing  what  happens,  but  these  two 
are  my  whole  life.  Danger  to  them  is  the  only  suffer- 
ing I  know." 

Her  voice  trailed  off  to  a  whisper.  Silence  fell  be- 
tween them.  The  wagon  rumbled  on  in  the  vast  still- 
ness. For  miles  and  miles  about  them  no  living  thing 
stirred.  In  the  midst  of  the  solitude  the  boy  and  the 
woman  were  surrounded  by  the  quiet  of  an  abandoned 
tomb.  It  was  a  sink  of  desolation  condemned  even  by 
the  Creator  Himself. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  69 


CHAPTER  V. 

After  that  talk  Janet  Crossley  kept  Theo  and  Jarvis 
much  together.  It  was  not  difficult,  for  the  child  had 
already  taken  a  great  fancy  to  him.  She  regarded 
Jarvis  as  a  queen  might  look  upon  a  subject;  hers  by 
right,  a  being  to  be  ruled,  dominated  over,  experi- 
mented upon,  admired.  She  took  her  naps  clutching 
one  of  his  ringers  in  her  tiny  hand.  She  sat  on  his 
lap  and  drove,  she  mussed  his  hair  and  explored  -his 
pockets  and  bought  stories  with  her  kisses.  Jarvis, 
hungry  for  companionship  and  affection,  took  her  to 
his  heart,  confessing  to  himself  she  was  the  brightest 
little  thing  he  had  ever  seen. 

On  the  fifth  day  out  from  Salton,  the  day  Yuma 
was  passed,  the  party  decided  to  travel  by  night.  Un- 
der cover  of  the  darkness  the  horses  ran  less  risk.  Be- 
sides this,  they  themselves  were  almost  exhausted. 
Their  eyes  were  swollen  and  blinded  by  the  glare  and 
the  dust.  Thirst  tortured  them  even  while  they  drank. 
From  the  moment  of  the  sun's  rising  until  like  a  great 
disk  of  molten  brass  it  fell  below  the  western  horizon, 
the  heat  scourged  their  bodies.  Nothing  could  escape 
it.  It  beat  down  on  the  great  level  surface  until  the 


70  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

alkali  burned  a  white  heat.  There  was  no  shade,  no 
wind,  no  shelter.  The  air  shimmered  and  vibrated. 
Every  inhalation  scorched  their  lungs. 

"  Is  it  cool  anywhere  in  all  the  world  ?  "  gasped 
Janet. 

"  Wait — wait  until  we  get  the  other  side  of  Tempe. 
Then  we'll  forget  all  this."  Jarvis  jumped  from  the 
wagon  as  he  spoke,  but  his  words  were  cut  short  by  a 
half  cry.  The  sand  had  burned  through  the  soles  of  his 
shoes.  The  ground  was  stinging  hot,  a  veritable  open 
oven. 

They  brushed  away  the  top  layer  of  sand  under  the 
wagon,  and,  protected  by  this  shelter,  they  lay  all  day, 
panting,  perspiring,  wondering  how  much  longer  this 
thing  could  be  endured.  Between  waking  and  sleeping 
Jarvis  reviewed  the  events  of  the  past  three  weeks. 
They  marched  through  his  mind,  one  after  another, 
like  a  procession  of  evil  specters.  Was  it  possible  these 
things  had  happened?  Rather  was  he  not  recalling 
strange  dreams  that  haunted  his  memory?  If  the 
drama  of  that  one  never-to-be-forgotten  day  could  only 
be  effaced,  it  would  be  easy  enough  to  overcome  the 
other  memories.  But  in  all  its  detail  that  period  of 
time  hovered  continually  before  his  eyes. 

He  saw  himself  listening  by  the  open  window  to 
those  shouts  from  the  newsboys.  The  horror  that  had 
seized  him  at  that  time  weighed  on  him  now.  He  went 
over  and  over  the  last  interminable  day,  the  one  he 
spent  in  the  lodging-house,  and  his  walk  to  the  station 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  71 

that  night,  when  every  step  was  like  a  plunge  toward 
an  unknown  abyss. 

Thoroughly  awake,  the  boy  lay  looking  off  across 
the  leagues  of  sand,  terrible  visions  dancing  through 
his  imagination,  grizzly  fancies  hand  in  hand  with 
images  all  too  real.  Even  if  in  years  to  come  he  made 
a  place  for  himself,  even  if  everything  from  now  on 
belonging  to  his  daily  life  were  above  reproach,  would 
he  ever  live  IT  down?  Could  he  ever  rid  himself  of 
the  memory  and  the  suffering,  the  suspicion  and  the 
fear?  Would  he  ever  cease  to  be  at  the  mercy  of  those 
two  deeds,  roving  through  life,  restless,  harried,  har- 
assed ? 

Suddenly  he  arose  to  his  feet.  Beside  himself  with 
unhappiness,  he  could  not  lie  still.  His  face  was  set, 
his  eyes  distended.  "  I  will  live  it  down.  It  shall 
not  crush  me.  I  never  meant  it;  God  knows  I  never 
meant  it.  Somewhere,  somehow,  I'll  make  a  place  for 
myself  that  I  will  keep.  Yes,  keep,  no  matter  what 
happens.'' 

The  sun  had  set  at  last.  The  whole  west  flamed 
with  a  ruddy  glow.  But,  as  if  in  surprise  at  what  it 
found,  one  shaft  of  light  lingered,  falling  full  on  the 
solitary  figure  of  the  boy.  A  single  black  dot  erect, 
alone,  the  only  human  creature  to  be  seen  in  that  huge 
region  of  desert  waste. 

Abruptly  from  out  of  the  intense  quiet  Jarvis  heard 
a  groan.  It  was  close  beside  him.  With  a  bound  the 
sound  brought  him  out  from  the  gulf  of  remembrance 


72  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

into  which  he  had  been  plunged.  Turning  swiftly  his 
heart  gave  a  leap.  In  an  instant  he  had  seen  and  un- 
derstood. 

John  Crossley  lay  staring  up  into  the  boy's  face  with 
eyes  sunk  deep  in  their  sockets  and  devoid  of  all  ex- 
pression. His  face  and  lips  were  bloodless,  the  gaunt 
body  straight  and  rigid.  From  between  the  white  lips 
oozed  a  bright  red  stream,  the  blood  running  down  onto 
his  shirt-front  that  was  already  stained  crimson. 

The  same  groan  that  startled  Jarvis  brought  Janet 
to  her  feet  out  of  a  half  doze.  Without  a  cry,  without 
a  word,  she  looked  down  into  her  husband's  face.  The 
sudden  awakening  to  the  sight  that  confronted  her 
dazed  the  woman  for  the  moment,  but  only  for  the  mo- 
ment. Then,  with  a  mighty  effort,  she  aroused  her- 
self. She  joined  Jarvis,  who  was  propping  up  John's 
head  and  shoulders,  doing  everything  he  could  to  stop 
the  hemorrhage.  They  worked  fast,  but  there  was  lit- 
tle enough  to  do. 

By  degrees  that  thin  red  stream  increased.  The 
sweat  broke  out  over  the  man's  face ;  his  hands  and  feet 
were  cold.  All  at  once  his  eyes  opened  wide  with  a 
jerk  and  Janet,  crouching  close  to  him,  watching  every 
expression  of  his  face,  saw  that  he  knew  her.  A  faint 
smile  parted  his  lips.  She  tried  to  give  an  answering 
smile,  while  the  great  tears  filled  her  eyes,  rolled  down 
her  cheeks,  and  dropped  onto  that  coat  already  soaked 
with  his  blood. 

"  John,  John,"  she  whispered,  "  I  will  come  soon. 
I  can't  live  without  you.  Oh,  my  dear,  my  dear !  " 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  73 

His  fingers  closed  over  hers,  then  almost  instantly 
weakness  overcame  him.  The  little  light  of  intelli- 
gence that  had  flickered  in  his  eyes  faded  away.  His 
breathing  became  irregular  and  faint. 

Jarvis,  sick  at  sight  of  Janet's  face,  turned  away. 
There  was  nothing  to  be  done,  nothing  to  be  said. 
Death  was  at  hand,  a  specter  peering  at  the  little  group, 
ready  to  seize  one  of  them.  The  seconds  passed.  By 
degrees  the  sound  of  John's  breathing  grew  fainter  and 
fainter.  Jarvis,  listening  with  straining  ears,  could 
barely  hear  it,  even  in  the  cathedral-like  silence.  All 
at  once  it  ceased. 

The  boy  waited,  then  looked  around,  uttering  a  moan 
of  compassion.  But  there  was  no  horror  here.  The 
man  had  died  quietly,  sinking  so  gradually  that  it  was 
like  falling  into  a  slumber.  His  head  was  on  Janet's 
lap.  She  sat  soothing  him,  talking  to  him  gently  as 
though  she  followed  his  spirit  out  on  its  journey  into 
the  unknown.  There  was  a  strange  light  on  her  face, 
but  hardly  a  quiver  of  grief. 

Jarvis  could  not  endure  the  thing  any  longer.  He 
picked  up  the  sleeping  child  and  rushed  away  from  the 
wagon,  beside  himself  with  anguish  and  pity.  He 
walked  on  and  on  over  the  sand,  motion  a  physical 
need.  Farther  and  farther  he  went  as  if  in  a  trance, 
not  thinking  where  he  was,  completely  overcome  by 
the  tremendous  mystery  of  life  and  death.  For  the  first 
time  he  had  witnessed  the  death  of  a  man,  the  passing 
of  a  human  soul.  The  sight  had  brought  home  to  him 


74  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

with  renewed  force  the  enormity  of  his  crime.  He,  a 
mere  nothing,  had  interfered  with  the  progress  of  a 
human  being  working  out  its  period  of  earthly  proba- 
tion. He  had  stayed  the  march  of  a  soul's  salvation. 
Nothing  he  could  do  would  ever  atone  for  his  deed. 

Ridden  with  remorse,  a  fierce,  unreasoning  desire 
possessed  him  to  take  upon  himself  some  heavy 
penance;  a  punishment  amounting  almost  to  mar- 
tyrdom. All  at  once  the  man,  whose  life  he  had 
ended  by  a  blow,  seemed  to  confront  him.  The  accus- 
ing figure,  mute,  still,  wrapped  in  its  long  outer  gar- 
ment, rose  before  him  like  a  vision,  calling  out  its  accu- 
sation, demanding  retribution.  Like  a  wraith  it  lifted 
itself  from  the  barren  sands  until,  clear  and  distinct, 
Meredith  himself  stood  before  Jarvis, — a  terrible 
dream  come  true,  a  ghastly  image  vivified. 

The  boy's  eyes  dilated  with  horror.  He  stopped 
short,  a  scream  choked  at  his  lips.  He  could  not 
move,  he  could  not  speak.  Every  drop  of  blood  froze 
in  his  veins.  Spellbound  he  watched,  waiting  as  he 
had  waited  in  the  grove,  for  an  attack. 

Suddenly  Theo  stirred  in  his  arms.  It  startled 
the  boy.  He  drew  a  deep  breath,  his  eyes  closed, 
opened.  There  was  nothing  there.  Nothing  any- 
where. IT  was  gone.  He  stood  alone,  the  little  girl 
asleep  in  his  arms,  and  he  awakened  from  his  spell  of 
guilt,  the  conscious  knowledge  of  an  evil  deed. 

But  was  it  truly  gone?  Gone  for  good?  The  old 
suspicion  was  rampant.  Instantly  there  leaped  upon 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  75 

him  the  renewed  sense  of  pursuit.  Immediate  danger 
surrounded  him.  If  he  could  cross  the  desert,  why 
could  not  others, — those  others,  those  agents  of  the 
law  who  sought  him  ?  What  was  this  he  had  just  seen 
but  a  warning,  a  signal  that  vengeance  was  at  hand? 
All  his  struggles  and  schemes  to  throw  detectives  off 
the  scent  had  been  boyish,  futile,  senseless.  He  saw 
that  now,  saw  plainly.  At  any  minute  the  law  could 
grip  him  whenever  it  chose,  wherever  he  might  be. 

Theo  turned  restlessly,  her  breath  coming  heavily 
from  a  disturbed  slumber.  He  soothed  her  until  she 
was  quieted  again,  then  he  retraced  his  steps  toward  the 
wagon,  peering  occasionally  over  his  shoulder,  not  sat- 
isfied that  he  was  alone.  He  settled  down  within  easy 
reach,  if  Janet  should  call  him.  But  he  had  lost  con- 
trol of  himself;  his  body  was  trembling,  his  head 
bowed  in  his  hands.  Try  as  he  would,  he  could  not 
overcome  his  fears. 

The  hours  passed.  The  cool  of  the  evening  deep- 
ened into  the  refreshing  darkness  of  the  night. 
Myriads  upon  myriads  of  stars  sprinkled  the  heavens. 
No  sign  of  life  came  from  the  wagon.  The  utter  still- 
ness that  encompassed  him  was  compatible  with  a 
world  unpeopled,  undiscovered.  Oppressed  with  lone- 
liness, Jarvis  fancied  himself  flung  off  into  vacancy, 
spinning  around  in  a  vortex  of  heat  and  sand,  alone 
with  the  sleeping  child,  both  of  them  awaiting  restora- 
tion through  some  awe-inspiring  immolation. 

Though  the  vision  came  to  him  no  more,  he  was 


76  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

racked  by  some  supernatural  understanding,  elusive, 
indefinite,  undefinable  but  none  the  less  sure.  It  was 
a  certainty  of  some  calamity  hovering  near,  of  grief 
and  trouble  yet  to  come. 

The  child  slept  on  and  on  in  entire  unconsciousness 
of  what  her  mother  suffered,  of  what  she  herself  had 
lost.  A  dainty,  fragile,  pretty  little  thing,  knowing 
nothing  of  sorrows  or  fears,  innocent  of  the  mysteries 
of  creation,  happy  as  long  as  the  sun  shone  and  the 
birds  sang  and  all  her  wants  were  gratified. 

About  midnight  Jarvis  yielded  to  his  utter  weari- 
ness, and,  without  meaning  to,  fell  into  a  light  sleep. 
No  summons  had  come  from  Janet.  A  certain  deli- 
cacy of  feeling  prevented  his  intrusion  on  her  sacred 
vigil  over  her  dead.  But  even  his  sleep  was  troubled 
with  strange  visions.  Intangible  shapes,  vague  dan- 
gers, galloped  wildly  through  his  brain,  gone  almost 
before  they  had  come,  leaving  their  imprint  on  his 
memory.  Just  before  the  dawn  whitened  the  sky,  he 
awoke  with  a  start,  shivering  with  a  chill,  staring  about 
him,  fearfully  oppressed. 

Something  had  happened.  Something  had  passed 
over  him,  recalling  him  from  sleep,  leaving  an  imprint 
of  trouble.  It  was  the  culmination  of  what  had  hov- 
ered over  him  for  hours.  Brusquely  he  rose,  looking 
ahead,  half  expecting"  to  see  some  form,  some  face. 
But  nothing  showed,  nothing  stirred,  nothing  breathed. 
Leaving  Theo  on  the  sands  he  strode  towards  the 
wagon,  puzzled  to  know  from  where  that  call  had  come. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  77 

He  peered  into  the  wagon.  All  was  quiet,  too  quiet. 
As  his  eyes  became  used  to  the  dim  half-light  of  early 
morning  he  could  see  Janet  and  John.  They  sat  as  he 
had  left  them,  she  leaning  back  against  the  wagon  seat 
with  his  head  resting  on  her  lap.  But  there  was  an 
immense  change  in  her.  Instantly  he  knew  that.  Her 
eyes  were  wide  open,  her  face  blue-white,  and  some- 
thing in  her  attitude  made  Jarvis  take  a  step  nearer 
to  the  wagon,  steadying  himself  against  the  wheel,  un- 
able  as  yet  to  look.  The  answer  to  all  his  uneasiness, 
to  all  his  hallucinations,  was  given.  It  had  been  death 
following  their  trail,  hovering  over  the  wagon,  unap- 
peased  by  one  victim,  its  ever  hungry  maw  demanding 
a  second,  waiting  perhaps  for  a  third. 

For  a  moment  he  was  stunned.  He  struggled 
against  what  had  happened.  He  revolted  against  ac- 
cepting the  inevitable  and  in  a  sudden  paroxysm  of 
grief,  he  railed  against  himself,  driven  almost  beyond 
the  bounds  of  reason.  Was  he  not  to  blame  for  this  ? 
Was  not  his  mere  presence  a  curse?  He  had  done 
nothing  to  be  so  beset  by  tragedies,  yet  misfortunes 
closed  about  him  on  all  sides. 

His  very  presence  was  the  signal  for  doom.  His 
retribution  was  begun.  A  curse  was  upon  him.  He 
could  not  move  that  he  did  not  bring  disaster  and  sor- 
row into  the  life  of  his  friends.  His  road  was  one 
long  progress  of  horrors.  The  boy  closed  his  eyes, 
burying  his  face  in  his  hands,  the  most  wretched  of 
beings. 


78  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

Evidently  Janet  had  died  without  a  struggle. 
Tired,  tired  out,  her  heart  had  refused  to  go  on  with 
its  burden  of  life.  How  long  she  had  been  dead  Jar- 
vis  could  not  guess,  but  her  body  was  barely  chilled. 

With  a  final  mastering  of  his  strength,  he  resolved 
on  one  last  attempt  to  discover  some  evidence  of  life 
in  Janet's  still  body.  He  bent  over,  hoping  against 
hope  for  one  little  breath,  one  little  flutter  of  her  heart. 
His  own  face  was  scarcely  less  pale  than  the  faces  of 
those  two  lying  there  mute  in  death. 

"What  shall  I  do?  What  shall  I  do?"  he  whis- 
pered, lifting  his  head,  looking  about  him  with  un- 
seeing eyes. 

Why  had  this  come?  He  had  never  expected  it. 
He  knew  Janet  was  sick  and  tired,  but  never — never 
had  he  dreamed  of  such  an  outcome  of  that  illness, 
in  spite  of  her  assurances  that  she  could  not  live  long. 
Persistently  the  boy  leaned  over  the  woman,  dropping 
on  his  knees  beside  her,  determined  not  to  give  up. 
The  whole  thing  was  so  terrible — so  impossible.  Life 
could  not  have  been  struck  from  her  like  this. 

He  called  aloud  on  God  to  show  His  divinity  and  give 
her  back  to  him.  His  face  was  wild,  his  voice  strident. 
He  was  on  the  verge  of  a  complete  nervous  collapse 
from  fatigue  and  suffering  and  long  brooding  over  the 
subject  that  never  left  his  mind. 

The  day  was  coming  on.  The  huge  basin  of  alkali 
glowed  dazzlingly  white,  the  air  shimmered,  the  silence 
of  the  grave  stretched  around  him.  He  was  alone 
with  the  dead  in  the  region  of  death. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  79 

Suddenly  his  face  quivered,  his  body  stiffened  con- 
vulsively. Something  was  creeping  up  behind  him ; 
he  could  feel  it  coming  closer.  He  thought  of  Mere- 
dith. What!  was  the  ghost  back  at  him  again ?  Like 
a  frozen  thing  he  waited,  while  out  of  the  silence  and 
loneliness  something  stole  towards  him.  A  thousand 
monstrous  specters  galloped  through  his  imagination. 
All  at  once  a  hand  touched  his  arm. 

It  was  the  last  straw.  At  the  feel  of  those  ringers, 
the  boy's  endurance,  goaded  to  the  limit,  broke.  He 
screamed,  struggled  to  his  feet,  his  breath  gagging 
his  throat.  He  had  believed  himself  alone  with  the 
two  dead  bodies.  Now  someone  was  here.  All  but 
insane  with  fear,  he  turned  to  face  the  horror  at  his 
back.  When  his  eyes  could  see  and  his  wits  steadied 
themselves,  Jar  vis  gave  a  pitiful  attempt  at  a  laugh. 

"Theo!"  he  cried.  "Oh,  Theo,  how  you  fright- 
ened me !  What  a  miserable  coward  I  am.  I  had  for- 
gotten you.  You  poor  child!  You  poor  little  child! 
I'm  all  you  have  left,  and  I  am  such  a  coward.  Theo, 
oh,  Theo!" 

He  broke  down  now  altogether,  crying  and  sobbing 
in  the  throes  of  hysteria,  pouring  out  his  thanks  that 
Meredith  had  not  come  back  to  haunt  him,  raging  at 
his  own  lack  of  courage. 


80  ESIIEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 


CHAPTER  VI. 

The  years  passed.  The  seasons  came  and  went. 
All  this  time  Theodora,  safely  housed  and  cared  for 
in  a  convent  school,  was  growing  from  a  child  to<  a 
woman,  and  Jarvis  busied  himself  with  anything  that 
came  his  way.  The  great  desire  of  his  life  had  not 
been  realized,  but  he  was  no  longer  desperately  poor. 

As  if  true  to  his  convictions,  the  West  had  given 
him  his  opportunity.  It  came  abruptly,  unexpectedly, 
but  big  with  possibilities.  The  discovery  of  oil  in 
Texas  was  one  of  those  startling,  unlooked  for  occur- 
rences that  have  marked  each  era  of  this  Western 
country's  progress. 

The  news  leaped  unheralded  to  every  corner  of  the 
United  States,  carried  on  by  the  four  winds  of  Heaven, 
instantly  throwing  wide  open  to  the  community  new 
fields  for  investment  and  employment.  There  was 
every  chance  to  make  a  fortune,  and  Jarvis,  alive  to 
the  situation,  was  quick  to  seize  it. 

With  fifty  dollars  of  the  stolen  money  that  he  had 
clung  to  through  every  reverse  and  every  need,  to- 
gether with  the  money  belonging  to  Theo  that  the  boy 
had  found  in  the  belt  on  John  Crossley's  dead  body, 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  81 

he  had  been  able  to  take  up  oil  lands  at  Flaremont. 
His  claim  proved  to  be  the  pick  of  the  county,  though 
at  the  time  it  was  a  hazard,  a  gambler's  risk.  He  was 
not  an  expert  and  the  land  he  chose  lay  in  a  region  as 
yet  untried. 

Luck  had  been  with  him.  What  he  found  ex- 
ceeded his  wildest  hopes.  It  seemed  that  no  sooner 
had  the  first  well  been  drilled  than  it  was  seen  the  entire 
ground  flowed  with  oil.  There  was  practically  no 
end  to  the  yield.  One  had  but  to  sink  a  shaft  to  be- 
come a  producer.  Then  suddenly  the  earth  around 
Flaremont  could  not  wait  for  drills  and  shafts.  Time 
and  again  great  geysers  of  oil  broke  through  the  sur- 
face, thrusting  themselves  into  notice,  spouting  high 
in  the  air.  It  was  wonderful.  It  attracted  attention 
from  every  part  of  the  world,  and  the  citizens  of  Flare- 
mont rose  to  the  emergency. 

Companies  were  organized  of  all  grades  of  good  and 
evil,  for  the  benefit  of  those  outside  the  state.  Hun- 
dreds of  men  flocked  to  the  town,  endeavoring  to  get 
a  foothold  in  the  new  industry  without  the  expenditure 
of  capital.  Stock  was  sold  broadcast.  Circulars  ex- 
plaining the  condition  of  affairs  and  inviting  inspec- 
tion were  widely  distributed. 

Every  day  excitement  increased.  There  were  wild 
stories  of  suddenly  acquired  wealth,  beside  which  the 
fabulous  amounts  won  during  the  California  gold 
craze  dimmed  by  comparison. 

It  brought  a  new  aspect  to  Flaremont.     From  a 

6 


82  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

sleepy,  eternally  quiet  little  town  of  two  or  three  hun- 
dred inhabitants,  it  became  a  center  of  great  activity. 
Drays  and  carts  clattered  through  the  streets.  The 
sound  of  incessant  hurrying  of  hundreds  of  feet  rose 
in  the  air.  The  stores  were  crammed.  New  build- 
ings were  going  up  everywhere,  with  rents  booming. 
A  big  hotel  was  being  rushed  to  completion.  The  old 
one,  crowded  to  its  limits,  placed  cot-beds  in  the  hall- 
ways and  in  the  billiard-room,  night  after  night.  A 
near-by  restaurant  did  an  enormous  business,  serving 
meals  at  all  hours  of  the  day. 

The  railroad  company  had  put  up  a  new  office  build- 
ing and  doubled  its  corps  of  assistants.  Already  the 
regular  train  service  had  been  trebled,  but  for  all  that, 
specials  were  run  with  increasing  frequency  to  accom- 
modate incoming  crowds. 

Families  camped  on  the  ground  in  tents  or  wagons, 
unable  to  find  shelter  anywhere.  The  streets  were 
thronged  with  idle  men  and  girls,  passing  up  and  down, 
jostling  one  another,  going  in  and  out  of  the  post- 
office,  staring  at  the  store  windows,  laughing,  chatting, 
keeping  up  a  continuous  movement. 

Cowboys  raced  by,  attracting  attention  to  them- 
selves, riding  to  create  an  impression,  shooting  their 
revolvers  in  the  air  and  laughing  at  the  women's 
screams.  Indian  women,  highly  painted,  stood  stolidly 
watching  the  throngs,  chewing  tobacco,  smoking,  ex- 
changing stories. 

Men  in  their  shirt-sleeves  sat  in  front  of  saloons, 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  83 

watching  the  scene,  ignoring  the  open  comments  of  the 
new-comers. 

A  street-car  line,  the  open  admiration  of  every  man 
and  woman  of  Flaremont,  was  in  process  of  construc- 
tion ;  a  vaudeville  show  had  been  set  going  in  a  board 
shackle;  there  were  a  dozen  games  in  action  where 
one  could  bet  as  much  as  he  liked,  unmolested  by  the 
law. 

Megaphones,  slot  machines,  living  pictures,  occupied 
stand  after  stand  along  the  back  streets,  and  Flare- 
mont had  jumped  into  a  town  of  life  and  enterprise, 
throbbing  with  all  the  elements  of  an  embryo  city. 

In  every  direction  oil  derricks  were  in  evidence, 
rising  like  somber  guardians  of  the  prairie  lands.  In- 
variably, little  homes  lay  resting  under  their  very 
shadows.  New  adobe  structures,  muddy  white,  with 
vine-covered  porches,  very  shady  and  cool  under  the 
wilting  glare  of  endless  sunshine,  wrere  set  about  like 
so  many  dots  on  the  landscape.  Occasionally  a  frame 
house,  more  pretentious  in  character  than  its  neighbors, 
reared  itself  in  the  midst  of  a  grove  of  live-oaks,  a 
wide  porch  on  the  first  floor.  On  the  second  floor,  hid 
under  the  shelter  of  a  projecting  roof,  was  a  loggia 
for  the  noonday  siesta,  furnished  with  cool,  easy 
chairs  of  wicker,  a  hammock  swung  across  one  corner, 
a  table  in  the  center  with  bottles  and  glasses,  and  off 
at  one  end  a  writing-desk  covered  with  pens,  pencils, 
paper,  envelopes,  stamp-boxes,  and  ink-well. 

It  was  in  such  a  house  as  this  that  a  half  dozen  men 


84  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

gathered  one  morning  in  response  to  a  request  from 
Jarvis.  Every  one  of  them  pioneers  in  the  Texas  oil 
trade  and  strikers  of  paying  wells. 

But  for  some  time  things  in  that  trade  had  not 
been  going  right.  Month  by  month  certain  facts 
were  making  themselves  apparent,  presenting  difficul- 
ties that  threatened  the  future  of  the  entire  industry. 
It  was  the  history  of  the  individual  oil  trade  in  the 
East  repeating  itself.  It  was  the  continued  rumor  of 
monopoly  standing  by  to  annihilate  the  small  owner. 
There  had  been  on  different  occasions  informal  meet- 
ings of  the  drillers,  desultory  talks  and  arguments  in 
favor  of  organization  as  a  possible  protection  against 
any  such  action.  But  the  matter  dragged  on  with 
nothing  definite  done. 

Finally  six  of  the  largest  owners  had  come  together 
and  made  a  start  by  electing  Jarvis  president  of  the 
Company  to  be  formed  by  them.  Then  ensued  a  long 
period  of  inactivity,  the  men  handicapped  by  lack  of 
ready  money  until,  after  months  of  waiting,  matters 
were  suddenly  brought  to  a  climax. 

Information  was  circulated  that  Eastern  capital  had 
actually  united,  carried  out  its  threat  of  one  gigantic 
company  and  had  set  out  to  control  the  oil  industry, 
not  only  of  the  West,  but  of  the  entire  United  States. 
Almost  simultaneously  it  was  discovered  that  this  giant 
corporation  had  made  its  first  move.  The  railroads 
were  pledged  to  its  dictates,  and  it  controlled  the  broad 
sweep  of  every  waterway.  At  one  blow,  means  of 
transportation  were  cut  off  to  the  outside  shipper. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  85 

Besides  this,  the  very  price  of  petroleum  outputs  rose 
and  fell  to  meet  that  concern's  own  purpose;  flying 
upward  one  week,  only  to  be  slashed  so  viciously  the 
next  that  competition  became  impossible.  Ruin  stared 
the  Texas  oilmen  in  the  face  unless  some  concerted 
action  was  decided  on  and  carried  out. 

The  rational  course  seemed  in  the  formation  of  an 
opposing  company.  A  force  to  meet  a  force.  But 
each  man  hesitated  to  assume  the  initiative.  To  buck 
against  such  an  enormous  foe,  to  throw  the  gauntlet  of 
war  in  the  face  of  so  formidable  an  antagonist,  was  al- 
most suicidal. 

But  the  drillers'  hands  were  forced  by  a  final  aggress- 
ive issue.  Abruptly  one  morning  the  railroad  ac- 
knowledged its  connivance  with  the  Eastern  Petroleum 
Company  by  the  announcement  of  an  unexpected  in- 
crease in  freight  rates.  It  caught  the  shippers  cruelly. 
Every  man  in  the  district  was  affected.  This  was  fol- 
lowed in  less  than  ten  days  by  a  second  announcement 
of  still  another  advance  in  rates. 

There  was  a  scarcity  of  tank-cars.  The  roads  had 
more  business  now  than  they  could  handle.  Until  their 
lines  were  more  thoroughly  equipped  for  carrying  the 
unlocked  for  output  from  the  Texan  and  California!! 
oil-fields,  the  tariff  for  hauling  must  of  necessity  re- 
main high.  These  were  the  reasons  vouchsafed  the 
shipper,  nor  could  any  other  explanation  be  forced 
from  the  agents  of  the  road. 

Twenty-four  hours  after  this  outrage  the  men  as- 
sembled on  Jarvis'  porch,  very  serious,  very  much  in 


86  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

earnest,  no  longer  hesitating  in  the  performance  of 
what  now  was  their  only  salvation. 

There  was  not  a  rich  man  in  the  group, — not  one 
strong  enough  to  branch  out  by  himself,  with  a  large 
capital  to  fall  back  upon.  Without  an  exception  each 
one  had  acquired  his  property  for  a  small  sum,  long 
before  the  presence  of  oil  sent  values  to  boom  prices. 

They  had  gone  into  debt  for  their  first  machinery, 
very  sure  of  returns  sufficient  to  meet  payments. 
They  calculated  ahead,  seeing  in  a  few  years,  by  the 
exercise  of  some  degree  of  care,  all  indebtedness  paid 
off  and  something  left  as  a  nest-egg  for  a  growing  for- 
tune. Visions  of  prosperity  rose  higher,  clearer  in 
their  minds. 

Then  the  outlook  darkened  suddenly.  One  thing 
followed  on  another  quickly.  Their  attention  was 
taken  from  future  successes  and  riveted  on  the  pres- 
ence of  some  force  unfavorable  to  them.  Daily  the 
aspect  of  affairs  became  more  intolerable.  Even  to  the 
slowest  thinkers,  the  realization  presented  itself  that 
they  had  waited  too  long.  If  they  would  save  them- 
selves at  all,  they  must  act. 

By  ten  o'clock  all  the  men  who  had  been  asked  to 
come  were  at  hand.  Callister,  pale,  quiet,  with  the 
face  of  a  dreamer  rather  than  a  business  man,  ready  to 
back  Jarvis  in  any  scheme  he  offered,  seconding  every 
motion  his  friend  presented  without  a  moment's  hesi- 
tation. 

Morton,  tall,  thin  to  emaciation,  terribly  nervous,  his 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  87 

eyes  shifting  continually  as  though  he  waited  an  eter- 
nal attack  from  the  man  nearest  him. 

Hale  and  Lawler,  old  chums,  one  time  cattle-punch- 
ers, Texans  to  the  backbone.  They  affected  the  West- 
ern dress;  the  great  sombrero,  spurred  boots,  pistol 
holster,  shirts  low  in  the  neck.  They  were  fighters 
to  the  finish,  seeking  rather  than  avoiding  trouble. 

Randolph  Mason,  representing  his  mother.  A 
young  fellow  scarcely  out  of  his  teens,  very  gentle- 
manly, very  quiet,  respecting  every  man's  opinion,  be- 
lieving in  every  gentleman's  integrity.  He  was  wait- 
ing for  the  time  when  he  could  assume  all  the  burdens 
his  mother  had  carried  during  the  years  of  his  educa- 
tion. Strong,  young,  upright,  he  liked  to  think  ahead 
when,  as  master  of  his  house,  he  could  surround  his 
mother  and  sister  with  luxuries  such  as  they  had  never 
dreamed  of. 

As  a  matter  of  course,  Jarvis  put  the  situation  be- 
fore the  group.  Though  in  number  of  years  he  was 
second  to  Randolph  Mason,  the  youngest  man  there, 
he  seemed  by  right  to  dominate  the  meeting.  Already 
J.  Jarvis  had  gained  a  reputation  for  himself  in  Flare- 
mont.  He  had  proven  himself  far-seeing  and  clear- 
headed. In  fact,  the  very  discovery  of  oil  in  this  place 
was  practically  due  to  him, — the  discovery  that  had  put 
Flaremont  to  the  front  before  the  eyes  of  the  world. 
Then,  too,  Jarvis  with  his  keen,  aggressive  business 
sense  had  predicted  long  ago  the  very  stumbling-block 
that  was  now  thrust  in  the  path  of  the  industry.  If 
the  drillers  had  formed  a  Company  when  he  had  first 


88  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

suggested  it,  affairs  might  now  have  been  very  dif- 
ferent. 

He  seated  himself  at  the  head  of  the  table  strewn 
with  papers.  "  Gentlemen,"  he  began,  "  before  we 
discuss  the  matter  of  combination,  I  want  to  show  you 
the  latest  freight  rate  on  the  transportation  for  oil 
from  the  Pacific  to  the  Atlantic  Coast.  After  yes- 
terday's rumor  was  set  in  circulation,  I  could  not  bring 
myself  to  believe  what  I  heard.  I  called  upon  Mr. 
Eberlie,  the  local  freight  agent  of  the  X.  &  Y.  Railroad. 
He  had  not  much  to  say,  and  the  truth  is,  I  obtained 
very  little  satisfaction.  He  handed  me  a  printed 
schedule  of  rates,  affirming  that  his  orders  came  direct 
from  headquarters,  and  as  an  agent  he  followed  the 
course  marked  out  for  him  by  his  superiors.  Per- 
sonally he  had  nothing  to  do  with  orders  except  to  see 
that  others  obeyed  them.  I  studied  the  schedule  care- 
fully. The  increase  is  outrageous,  beyond  all  reason. 
If  we  ship  in  their  tank-cars,  as  we  must,  to  send  our 
oil  out  of  the  state,  I  for  one  cannot  but  meet  with  a 
loss  at  the  present  price  of  crude  petroleum ;  a  big  loss 
on  every  barrel." 

"  The  fix  we're  all  in,"  muttered  Hale. 

Lawler  nodded.  He  was  chewing  viciously  on  a 
cigar  end. 

"  More  than  this,"  proceeded  Jarvis,  "  since  the  X.  & 
Y.  refused  six  months  ago  to  carry  oil  in  barrels,  forc- 
ing on  all  producers  in  Texas  and  California  shipment 
by  tank-cars,  it  has  been  evident  to  me  that  there  is  a 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  89 

concerted  action  among  the  Eastern  producers  against 
the  Western  producers." 

"  You  can  go  farther  than  that ;  a  concerted  action 
between  Eastern  producers  together  with  certain  rail- 
road corporations  to  put  us  out  of  the  business,"  ejacu- 
lated Callister,  picking  up  the  schedule  of  rates  from 
where  it  lay  on  the  table. 

"  There's  dirty  work  here  somewhere,"  said  Lawler, 
gloomily. 

"  But,  gentlemen,"  broke  in  Randolph  Mason,  look- 
ing earnestly  around  at  the  group  of  uneasy  faces, 
"  of  course  I  am  young  in  the  business,  but  it  seems  to 
me  what  you  suggest  can  hardly  be  true.  If  the  rail- 
road is  in  league  with  Eastern  producers  to  put  us 
Westerners  out,  why  does  it  advance  rates  to  a  killing 
price  for  both  parties?  Won't  the  Eastern  concern 
be  hurt  as  we  are  hurt?  " 

"  That's  where  a  combination  of  interests  wins.  A 
dozen  men  combined  can  do  what  two  dozen  individ- 
uals cannot,"  replied  Jarvis. 

"  Then  a  combination  of  our  own  men  is  what  we 
need,"  observed  Mason. 

"  It's  the  only  thing  that  wins  nowadays,"  said 
Lawler,  decisively. 

"  And  that  means  money  enough  to  buy  up  every- 
thing necessary  to  your  monopoly,  from  the  control  of 
the  industry  you  intend  to  boss,  to  the  judges  of  the 
courts  and  the  men  who  represent  your  state  at  Con- 
gress. It's  a  big  game,"  exclaimed  Hale. 

"  But  the  only  game,"  reiterated  Lawler. 


90  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

"  That  isn't  honest  business/'  protested  young 
Mason. 

"  It's  modern  business,"  interrupted  Jarvis,  "  and  we 
should  have  acted  on  that  principle  long  ago.  We 
haven't  millions  to  spend,  but  even  as  we  are,  I  believe 
by  pooling  our  products  and  building  a  refinery,  with 
all  the  modern  improvements  and  money-saving  de- 
vices, there's  a  chance.  I  believe  that  with  the  price 
of  oil  even  lower  than  at  present,  and  freight  rates  as 
high,  we  can  still  come  out  a  little  ahead  of  the  game. 
At  least  we  can  keep  up  the  fight.  I  have  been  making 
some  figures,  a  conservative  estimate  of  what  could 
be  done.  You  see  handling  refined  goods  and  the 
crude  oil  are  two  different  matters.  Would  you  care 
to  go  over  my  papers?  " 

The  men  crowded  closer.  Jarvis  sorted  out  from  the 
heap  on  the  table  a  long  paper  well  covered  with  pen- 
cil marks.  To  the  group  about  him  he  explained  each 
item,  refiguring,  adding,  subtracting,  reworking  the 
entire  problem.  He  went  over  and  over  the  income 
and  the  outgo,  the  profits,  losses,  and  daily  expense  ac- 
count, setting  every  point  clear  before  each  man. 

They  listened  eagerly,  throwing  out  an  occasional 
question  or  suggestion,  but  for  the  most  part  silent. 

"  The  first  expense  would  be  considerable,"  Jarvis 
said,  finally.  "  The  refinery  will  cost  good  money. 
But  once  finished,  it  will  pay  for  itself  within  five  years. 
As  I  said  before,  we  need  no  longer  handle  crude  oil, 
only  the  refined  products ;  refined,  too,  at  the  minimum 
sum.  It  will  be  our  own  business  from  the  start. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  91 

Moreover,  I  am  convinced  that  once  we  are  firmly 
established  as  a  Company,  standing  fearlessly  on  our 
rights,  we  will  be  let  alone.  It  is  one  thing  to  force 
an  individual  to  sell  out,  shutting  him  completely  from 
the  field,  quite  another  to  force  a  Company.  I'm  will- 
ing to  stake  all  I've  got  on  it." 

"  And  I,"  added  Callister. 

"  We're  in  a  hole  as  we  are.  To  swing  this  deal  is 
the  only  way  out,  so  far  as  I  can  see.  Jarvis  has  cov- 
ered the  situation,"  Lawler  remarked,  looking  at  Hale. 

Hale  nodded,  his  eyes  still  intent  on  the  paper. 

"  But  supposin' — just  supposin' — of  course  I  ain't 
sayin'  it  would  happen,  but  what  if  after  such  a  Com- 
pany got  goin',  after  we'd  all  chucked  in  everything  we 
had,  spent  our  last  dollar  fixin'  things  in  shape, — 
then  supposin'  instead  of  being  the  end,  it  was  just  the 
beginning;  that  the  rich  fellows  back  East  don't  give 
up,  but  gobble  us,"  hazarded  Morton,  speaking  into  his 
lap,  always  fearful,  always  watching  for  an  imaginary 
attack,  never  allowing  his  shifting  eyes  to  look  into  the 
faces  of  the  men  he  addressed. 

There  was  a  long  pause.  No  one  seemed  quite 
ready  to  meet  the  unwelcome  suggestion. 

"  I'm  of  the  opinion  we  would  stick  in  their  craws 
until,  failing  to  get  their  second  wind,  they  might 
strangle,"  remarked  Hale. 

Lawler  chuckled.  "  That  hits  the  case."  Then  he 
continued,  "  As  I  make  out  the  proposed  scheme,  it  is 
our  chance  of  getting  even  with  the  machine  that  wants 
to  knock  us  out.  I  don't  see  the  word  '  fail '  written 


92  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

anywhere  about  it;  and  if  we  win,  why,  we'll  be 
putting  away  profits  instead  of  curtailing  all  expenses 
and  seeing  our  wells  shut  off.  It  won't  cost  us  any 
more,  certainly,  than  sitting  like  dunderheads  watch- 
ing the  other  fellows  take  our  business." 

"  Mr.  Morton,  I  discovered  long  ago  that  a  man 
who  isn't  willing  to  risk  all  he  has,  or  fight  continually 
to  keep  what  he's  got,  doesn't  progress  very  fast,"  re- 
marked Jarvis,  twisting  a  paper  nervously  between  the 
thumb  and  finger  of  his  right  hand. 

"  You're  right,"  shouted  Lawler,  "  there  ain't  a  busi- 
ness nowadays  that  don't  follow  the  methods  of  a  lot- 
tery. You've  got  to  buy  your  ticket  and  trust  to 
drawing  the  right  number.  I'm  willing  to  let  this 
Company  take  all  I've  got.  I  even  stand  ready  to 
mortgage.  You  can't  get  a  big  thing  for  nothing. 
I'll  chance  all  on  this  scheme.  I  think  I'm  speaking 
m'  friend  Hale's  opinions." 

"  Right,"  cried  Hale,  "  and  it's  now  or  never  in  this 
case,  too.  We  can't  shrink  from  action  just  because  the 
gamble  involves  all  we've  got." 

"  I  feel  sure  you  may  count  on  my  mother's  inter- 
ests following  yours  in  this  matter,"  asserted  Randolph, 
quietly.  "  She  and  I  have  every  confidence  in  you, 
gentlemen,  and  in  your  several  opinions." 

"  Jarvis  and  I  always  pull  together,"  declared  Cal- 
lister.  "  It's  up  to  you  now,  Morton.  Do  you  care 
to  join  us  in  the  undertaking?  Understand,  you  can 
stay  out  if  you  want  to.  There's  no  force  in  the  mat- 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  93 

ter.  Only  we  have  got  to  know  where  we  stand  and 
who  stands  with  us,  for  in  a  crisis  we  must  feel  that 
each  man  is  acting  always  for  the  benefit  of  the  entire 
Company,  not  from  purely  personal  motives." 

As  of  one  accord  the  eyes  of  the  five  men  fixed  them- 
selves on  Morton's  face.  There  was  a  pause.  Already 
the  feeling  was  in  the  air  of  an  estrangement.  A 
backslider  had  fallen  in  their  camp,  a  man  not  to  be 
counted  on  in  an  undertaking  where  perfect  harmony 
must  from  necessity  be  assured. 

For  a  moment  Morton  moved  uneasily  in  his  chair, 
his  eyes  on  the  floor,  his  thin  face  with  its  pronounced 
features  flushed,  his  fingers  drumming  ceaselessly  on 
his  knees.  "  I  spoke  from  a  desire  for  knowledge,"  he 
murmured,  finally,  "  not  because  I  wanted  to  stand 
alone.  Why,  I  can't  stand  alone,  you  all  know  that. 
I'd  lose  every  dollar  I've  got;  I'd  have  to  go  out  of 
business  altogether.  I  want  to  go  into  this  thing  with 
you.  I  haven't  much.  I  began  with  nothing  at  all. 
Perhaps  I  am  over-anxious,  but  it  is  because  I  know 
what  poverty,  dreadful  poverty  means." 

"  We  all  know  what  that  means,  I  guess,"  said  Jar- 
vis,  kindly. 

"  Well,  I  want  to  go  in  on  this,"  Morton  repeated. 
"My  well  is  small.  It  isn't  like  the  gushers  you  fel- 
lows own,  but  I  want  to  get  in  the  Company."  He 
could  think  of  nothing  else  to  say  to  put  himself  right. 
He  uttered  the  same  phrases  again  and  again. 

"  And  we  want  you.    There  isn't  a  man  in  this  re- 


94  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

gion  who  understands  the  building  and  working  of  a 
refinery  as  you  do.  You  have  expert  knowledge ;  we 
haven't.  We  need  you,  Morton." 

Jarvis  looked  around  at  Callister,  sure  of  his  co- 
operation in  conciliating  Morton. 

"  That's  right,"  Callister  said,  immediately.  "  We 
need  each  other,  every  man  jack  of  us.  And  by  the 
way,"  he  observed,  with  a  smile,  "  it's  a  poor  time  to 
blow  one's  own  horn,  but  I've  got  something  in  the 
way  of  an  electrical  appliance  that  I  believe  would  do 
a  good  trick  for  us  in  a  refinery.  I'm  having  it  pat- 
ented, and  if  it  proves  all  right  we  will  have  the  sole 
claim  on  it — the  whole  right." 

"  We  need  all  the  good  things  we  can  get,"  remarked 
Hale,  continuing  rapidly.  "  Now  that  it's  arranged 
we  all  go  together,  let's  move  right  along.  The  situa- 
tion is  getting  desperate.  We  are  all  in  a  bad  way  if 
we  don't  act  soon.  It  was  decided  some  time  ago 
who's  to  be  our  head,  our  president,  so  that  won't  take 
time.  We  don't  want  any  more  dilly-dallying.  We've 
had  too  much  already.  I  move  that  we  give  our  presi- 
dent, Mr.  James  Jarvis,  authority  to  proceed  with  all 
necessary  plans  and  details." 

Instantly  there  was  a  clapping  of  hands. 

"  That's  it,  that  hits  the  case,"  shouted  Lawler, 
vociferously. 

"  Of  course — no  more  dallying,"  muttered  Morton. 

Young  Mason  arose  and  gripped  Jarvis'  hand  enthu- 
siastically, wanting  to  speak.  But  a  second  later  he  sat 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  95 

down,  flushing  with  embarrassment,  not  saying  a  word. 
He  was  continually  conscious  of  his  youth  and  inex- 
perience. By  himself  he  worked  out  great  ideas, 
formulated  big  plans,  only  to  have  them  shattered  at 
the  first  hint  of  discouragement. 

"  My  time,  my  energies,  and  my  thoughts  will  be 
devoted  to  carrying  out  our  project,"  Jarvis  hastened 
to  reply.  "There  need  be  no  delays,  no  long  waits, 
no  uncertainties.  The  sooner  we  can  act,  the  sooner 
we  will  be  fortified  to  meet  the  emergencies  of  compe- 
tition. It  is  my  wish  to  see  the  plans  for  the  refinery 
started  this  very  afternoon.  We  have  the  property, 
we  have  the  oil ;  all  we  need  is  the  building,  and  we 
will  push  that  to  completion  at  once.  In  a  way  we  are 
preparing  to  shoulder  a  grave  responsibility.  The 
eyes  of  every  independent  shipper  will  be  directed  to- 
wards our  undertaking.  Our  success  will  mean  such 
a  boom  in  the  building  and  operating  of  refineries  that 
the  petroleum  trade  will  be  revolutionized.  We  are 
not  alone  in  our  difficulties,  as  you  well  know.  Our 
distress  is  the  distress  of  the  entire  state,  I  might  al- 
most say  of  the  entire  United  States. 

"  But  I  am  not  afraid  to  assume  the  initiative.  Let 
Texas  watch.  Just  now  we  are  sitting  one  side  look- 
ing at  the  enemy,  but  time  will  alter  that  position  and 
show  us  lined  up  with  the  great  combinations  of  the 
day." 

There  was  a  shout.  Jarvis  had  spoken  the  one  word 
of  encouragement  necessary  for  these  men's  peace  of 
mind.  But  after  that  one  outburst,  silence  fell  on  the 


96  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

little  group,  no  one  speaking  or  stirring.  Callister's 
eyes  were  glancing  off  across  the  great  stretches  of 
country,  his  face  serious,  calm,  marked  with  certain 
lines  of  sadness.  Morton,  distressed,  uneasy,  forced 
himself  to  sit  motionless  on  the  chair  that  all  but 
touched  Randolph's.  Young  Mason,  in  direct  contrast 
to  that  shrinking  figure  so  close  beside  him,  strong, 
young,  erect,  full  of  confidence  and  hope,  his  eyes 
looking  straight  into  the  face  of  anyone  who  addressed 
him.  Lawler  and  Hale,  distinct  types  of  the  West- 
ern man,  broad  in  thought,  feeling,  and  action,  absorb- 
ing from  the  great  sweep  of  country  they  represented 
a  certain  largeness  of  ideas  and  beliefs;  quick  to  re- 
sent a  wrong  deed;  loyal  to  the  death;  impulsive,  rash, 
invariably  just.  Lastly,  Jarvis,  a  strange  mixture  of 
the  idealistic  dreamer  and  the  practical  man  of  business, 
seeking  to  win  a  place  of  honor  for  himself,  determined 
to  grip  fate  by  the  throat  and  hold  it  at  bay  until  his 
future  was  assured. 

For  that  morning  at  least,  the  conference  was  at 
an  end.  In  the  midst  of  their  silence  the  house  door 
opened  and  a  Chinaman  appeared,  carrying  a  tray  with 
bottles  and  glasses.  Behind  him  walked  a  young  girl, 
her  eyes  flashing  towards  Jarvis,  her  lips  breaking 
into  a  smile  as  she  met  his  glance. 

Quite  as  abruptly  the  man's  whole  countenance 
lighted  up  at  sight  of  her.  He  arose  at  once.  "  Gentle- 
men," he  said,  "  my  sister."  And  the  men  turned  to 
meet  her. 

There  was  little  in  the  Theodora  of  eighteen  to  re- 


"YOU   POOR   CHILD!   YOU   POOR   LITTLE   CHILD !"— Page  79. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  97 

mind  one  of  the  child  of  six,  except  perhaps  her  extreme 
daintiness  and  the  feminine  exquisiteness  that  had  al- 
ways been  so  much  a  part  of  her.  She  was  of  medium 
height,  and,  for  all  her  life  in  this  country  of  endless 
sunshine,  rather  pale.  Her  skin  was  smooth,  deli- 
cate, almost  transparent.  Her  eyes,  long  and  narrow, 
were  deep  brown,  so  heavily  edged  with  black  lashes 
as  to  make  them  look  even  darker  than  they  were. 
But  in  strange  contrast  to  her  eyes,  Theodora's  hair 
was  a  mass  of  golden  brown,  curling  thick  and  heavy 
down  over  her  forehead,  her  ears,  her  neck.  It  was 
wonderful  hair;  a  veritable  halo  of  glory  reflecting 
every  light,  scintillating  and  vibrating  like  a  pile  of 
burnished  gold.  She  was  very  quiet  and  very  self- 
possessed,  and  when  she  talked  she  had  a  way  of  mak- 
ing quick,  unexpected  gestures  that  were  charming 
and  graceful  beyond  words. 

But  her  greatest  fascination  lay  in  a  certain  quaint 
demureness  of  manner;  the  simplicity  of  a  nun,  the 
flavor  of  the  convent  where  she  had  lived  for  nearly 
twelve  years,  emanating  from  her  not  to  be  put  aside. 

Callister  she  knew.  To  the  other  men,  all  strangers, 
she  bowed  and  smiled,  glancing  from  face  to  face, 
finally  turning  to  Jarvis.  "  I  am  not  going  to  inter- 
rupt, Bud,  dear.  I  only  came  to  remind  you  that  you 
have  kept  your  friends  here  nearly  two  hours  without 
offering  them  even  so  much  as  a  drink  of  water." 

"  Oh,  he'd  kill  us  off  either  by  thirst;  or  starvation 
if  he  could,"  cried  Callister. 

'"'  We've  been  most  too  busy  to  feel  the  need  of  any- 


98  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

thing,"  said  Lawler,  a  trifle  perplexed,  never  easy  in 
the  presence  of  women. 

"  But  you'll  take  time  now  for  a  glass  of  wine,  to 
please  me,  won't  you?  "  she  asked,  sweetly. 

"  I  guess  I'd  do  most  anything  to  please  you,"  ex- 
claimed Lawler,  smiling  broadly. 

Meanwhile  the  Chinaman,  clearing  an  end  of  the 
table,  had  put  down  the  bottles  and  glasses.  Theodora 
poured  out  the  wine,  passing  the  first  glass  with  a 
plate  of  wafers  to  Lawler.  Young  Mason  was  stand- 
ing stiffly,  following  Theo  with  his  eyes  as  she  moved 
back  and  forth.  In  his  mind  he  compared  her  with 
Gabrielle,  his  own  sister,  and  observed  with  satisfac- 
tion that  now  for  the  first  time  he  was  looking  at  a  girl 
who  could  hold  her  own  in  the  way  of  looks  with  Ga- 
brielle. He  wondered  vaguely  why  he  had  never  seen 
Jarvis'  sister  before  and  if  Callister  were  an  old  friend. 
That  gentleman's  familiarity  seemed  to  proclaim  a 
long  acquaintance. 

Mason  could  not  take  his  eyes  from  her.  The  more 
he  looked  and  the  more  he  listened,  the  more  attractive 
the  girl  became.  For  the  first  time  in  the  young  fel- 
low's life,  the  feminine  element  suddenly  became  very 
important.  It  was  rather  pleasant  to  find  that  other 
women  could  be  as  beautiful  as  Gabrielle ;  women  who 
lived  near  him,  where  all  the  possibilities  were  in  favor 
of  closer  acquaintanceship. 

In  the  midst  of  his  reverie,  Randolph's  attention  was 
called  to  the  hour  by  a  faint  blowing  of  the  twelve- 
o'clock  whistles  from  the  factories  in  Flaremont.  He 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  99 

put  down  his  glass  and  straightened  up,  realizing 
abruptly  that  he  ought  to  be  leaving.  "  Mr.  Jarvis,  I 
must  go.  I  had  no  idea  it  was  so  late.  Whenever 
you  want  me,  let  me  know.  Mother  is  anxious  to  fol- 
low any  plan  you  suggest.  Good-by,  Miss  Jarvis." 

Jarvis  and  Theo  urged  him  to  have  luncheon  with 
them.  He  declined,  protesting  that  his  mother  would 
want  to  hear  the  result  of  the  meeting  and  would  ex- 
pect him  home;  but  some  day,  very  soon,  he  might 
drop  in  if  it  was  quite  convenient. 

He  hurried  away,  mounting  his  bicycle  at  the  gate, 
pushing  rapidly  down  the  road.  He  wondered  if  Jar- 
vis'  sister  was  looking  after  him,  and  at  the  bare 
thought  the  blood  rushed  into  his  cheeks. 

Directly  the  men  began  to  take  their  leave,  bowing 
awkwardly  to  Theo*,  gripping  hands  with  Jarvis,  urg- 
ing him  to  hurry  matters  to  the  best  of  his  ability. 
In  five  minutes  Callister,  Jarvis  and  Theo  were  alone, 
watching  Morton's  shuffling  gait  as  he  disappeared  to- 
wards Flaremont. 

"  Cal,  I  don't  like  that  man,"  muttered  Jarvis. 

"  Nor  I.  If  anything  went  wrong  I  don't  believe 
you  could  count  on  him — not  as  you  could  on  the 
others." 

"  What  a  good-looking  boy  Randolph  Mason  is !  " 
observed  Theo,  turning  to  pick  up  the  glasses. 

"  And  a  fine  fellow,  too.  He's  got  it  in  him  to  do 
something,  be  somebody,  if  he  isn't  afraid  to  act.  Cal, 
let's  look  over  these  figures  again.  I  want  to  be  dead 
sure  they're  right  before  we  go  any  farther." 


100  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 


CHAPTER  VII. 

It  was  nearly  dusk  when  Callister  finally  separated 
from  Jarvis.  Together  they  had  spent  the  entire  after- 
noon in  Flaremont  in  conference  with  architects,  inter- 
viewing1 contractors,  transacting  business,  hurrying 
matters  to  an  issue.  Jarvis'  energy  was  like  a  monster 
machine  driven  by  the  perpetual  motion  of  an  untiring 
will. 

Once  a  thing  settled  itself  in  his  mind  as  a  fact,  he 
knew  neither  rest  nor  contentment  until  it  was  accom- 
plished. He  was  eminently  a  man  of  affairs,  a  person 
of  achievement.  There  was  never  a  moment  when 
stupendous  ideas  were  not  whirling  about  in  his 
brain, — ideas  for  the  future,  ideas  that  should  benefit 
not  only  himself,  but  all  mankind.  In  his  whole  West- 
ern experience  thus  far  he  had  taken  up  one  thing  at 
a  time,  working  at  it  with  obstinate  fierceness  until  it 
took  practical  shape. 

Now  he  saw  success  expanding'  before  him.  Step 
by  step  he  was  climbing  the  ladder  of  prosperity.  But 
he  would  never  stop  until  he  had  won  the  goal  set  long 
ago  as  a  youth,  when,  hungry  and  cold  and  alone,  he 
dreamed  of  the  colony  of  people  whom  he  should  lead. 
For  his  belief  in  that  city  of  Utopian  practices  and  cus- 
toms had  never  flagged. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  101 

His  friendship  with  Callister  had  extended  over  a 
period  of  six  years.  The  two  had  met  for  the  first 
time  far  out  on  the  prairie  at  a  round-up  of  cattle. 
A  liking  had  been  established  between  them  at  once 
and  gradually  it  had  increased  into  a  sincere  affection. 

Callister  had  gone  West  on  account  of  his  health; 
he  remained  long  after  he  was  perfectly  recovered,  on 
account  of  Jarvis.  He  was  thirty-eight  years  old,  alone 
in  the  world,  with  ample  income  to  come  and  go  as  he 
chose,  and  live  much  better  than  he  cared  to.  He  was 
finely  educated  in  all  the  common  branches  of  knowl- 
edge. At  college  he  had  absorbed  himself  first  with 
chemistry,  then  with  electricity. 

There  was  nothing  about  the  latter  that  Callister 
had  not  read,  no  recent  discoveries  that  he  had  not  re- 
worked in  his  own  laboratory.  His  enthusiasm  over 
the  possibilities  of  this  force  was  unbounded.  He 
claimed  that  inventions  so  far  were  but  child's  play; 
that  electricity  was  a  power  past  all  belief,  as  great  as  of 
a  new  sun,  that  not  alone  death  but  life  itself  could  be 
controlled  by  its  forces.  His  own  discoveries  had  not 
been  few,  but  he  put  them  aside  with  a  gesture  of  im- 
patience, asserting  that  he  had  not  gone  outside  the 
puny  a,  b,  c  of  the  electrical  alphabet. 

In  his  own  way  Callister  was  quite  as  ambitious  as 
Jarvis,  but  he  utterly  lacked  any  keen  sense  of  the  prac- 
tical. The  two  men  were  entirely  opposite  in  charac- 
teristics. Callister  lived  in  an  unknown  world,  his 
imagination  overriding  his  judgment,  continually  re- 


102  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

ceiving  impressions  rather  than  reverting  to  facts. 
He  would  look  beyond  the  confines  of  the  earth  out  into 
the  mysterious  realm  of  forces  and  counter-forces;  of 
currents  and  counter-currents,  and  scheme  and  dream 
of  a  means  whereby  he  might  bring  the  intangible 
down  into  his  own  control.  He  wanted  to  dictate  to 
nature  and  hear  her  obey  his  command. 

He  was  supersensitive,  very  morbid,  and  inclined 
to  brood  for  days  over  trivial  things.  He  disliked  peo- 
ple. A  crowd  could  upset  him  for  a  month.  But  to 
the  few  for  whom  he  cared  he  yielded  up  his  heart. 
Nothing  could  change  his  affections  once  they  were 
placed.  He  forgave  everything,  excused  everything, 
overlooked  everything.  If  his  life  were  demanded  as 
a  sacrifice  for  a  friend,  without  a  second's  hesitation 
the  man  would  have  pledged  it. 

He  was  given  to  long  wanderings  out  of  doors,  find- 
ing in  hours  of  complete  isolation  and  lonely  commu- 
nion with  the  great  stretches  of  prairie  land,  the  inspira- 
tion for  his  work  and  the  strength  for  his  body.  It 
was  his  rest.  Perplexed,  unhappy,  harried  by  doubts, 
a  day  by  himself  restored  all  his  faculties  to  a  normal 
state. 

In  appearance  Callister  was  a  great  handsome  fellow 
with  a  pointed  blond  beard  covering  his  chin,  black  hair 
and  eyes  of  deep  hazel.  Unlike  Jarvis  in  everything 
else,  there  was  one  mutual  resemblance.  It  lay  in  the 
expression  of  sadness  that  marked  each  face,  a  sadness 
stamped  on  every  feature,  revealed  in  every  line, 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  103 

flashed  from  every  glance,  the  imprint  of  some  past 
suffering  that  could  not  be  lived  down. 

His  house  was  five  miles  from  Flaremont,  standing 
quite  alone  on  a  prominence  that  commanded  an  im- 
mense stretch  of  country.  The  house  itself  was  a 
tiny  affair,  empty  of  all  comforts,  containing  the  barest 
necessities.  A  huge  porch  from  which  all  vines  were 
excluded  ran  across  both  sides  and  the  front.  Ad- 
joining the  house  at  the  rear  was  his  laboratory,  a 
building  more  than  three  times  the  size  of  the  house, 
with  stone  foundation  and  heavy  doors  of  oak,  pad- 
locked and  crossed  with  iron  braces. 

The  view  from  Callister's  front  porch,  facing  Flare- 
mont, was  superb.  The  little  city  lay  in  the  green  val- 
ley, a  miniature  arrangement  of  white  houses  nestling 
in  a  setting  of  brilliant  green.  To  the  right,  on  ground 
as  elevated  as  his  own,  was  the  convent  of  The  Holy 
Mother,  where  Theo  had  gone  as  a  child,  knowing  it 
as  her  only  home  until  Jarvis,  three  months  before,  had 
built  the  house  to  which  he  had  taken  her. 

This  convent  was  a  white  building,  made  in  the 
shape  of  a  cross,  and  set  in  the  midst  of  a  wonderful 
garden  of  flowers.  Just  back  of  it  rose  the  church  of 
The  Holy  Mother,  an  ancient  structure  originally  used 
strictly  as  a  chapel  for  the  nuns.  The  plaster  walls 
were  badly  crumbled  and  the  high  belfry  seemed  in 
continual  danger  of  collapse  under  the  weight  of  the 
heavy  chimes  that  swung  under  the  dome-shaped  roof. 
Tucked  between  the  church  and  the  convent  was  the 


104  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

house  of  Father  Beauvais,  the  priest ;  a  man  as  vener- 
able as  the  church  he  presided  over,  grown  old  in  the 
practice  of  his  religion. 

Detaching  themselves  from  the  great  sweep  of  coun- 
try, mere  dots  on  the  landscape,  were  three  or  four 
houses :  Jarvis'  closest  at  hand ;  two  miles  nearer 
Flaremont,  the  widow  Mason's  cottage  with  the  tall 
oil-derrick  just  behind,  seeming  at  this  distance  to  rear 
itself  from  the  very  roof  of  the  dwelling.  Beyond 
that  the  new  house  where  Lawler  and  Hale  were  to  live 
together,  shining  very  new  in  its  half -completed  state. 

But  back  of  Callister's  place  spread  the  miles  of 
empty,  curving  country,  dull  brown  from  the  summer's 
sun;  still,  vast,  lengthening  far  beyond  the  reach  of 
one's  gaze;  great  ranges  for  the  wonderful  herds  of 
cattle;  huge  grain  ranches  catering  to  the  world's 
supply  of  food-stuffs.  Morning,  noon,  and  night  this 
illimitable  expanse  of  prairie  lay  wrapped  in  absolute 
silence,  the  very  immensity  of  it  excluding  sound. 

Callister,  striding  down  the  road,  watching  the  first 
quarter  of  the  new  moon  sink  closer  and  closer  to  the 
horizon,  felt  this  stillness  and  gave  himself  up  to  it. 
It  exhilarated  him  like  a  draught  of  new  wine.  It 
crept  into  his  veins,  it  covered  his  thoughts,  it  stole 
away  sensation.  Literally,  he  became  a  part  of  the 
solitude,  surrendering  his  own  personality  to  the  great 
somber,  silent  earth. 

It  had  grown  dark.  Callister  hurried  forward.  As 
he  came  to  the  spot  where  he  left  the  main  road  for 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  105 

the  trail  leading  up  the  hill  to-  his  house,  there  was  an 
interruption.  The  contented  quiet  was  broken  into  by 
the  sharp  clatter  of  horses'  feet.  The  unusual  sound 
roused  Callister  abruptly  from  his  dream  and  he 
jumped  back  to  the  edge  of  the  road,  stopping  short, 
straining  his  eyes  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  intruder. 

He  had  not  long  to  wait.  With  a  thunder  of  pound- 
ing hoof  beats  the  horse  swept  by,  but  even  through  the 
gloom  the  rider  had  seen  the  figure  by  the  roadside. 
He  gave  a  shout,  tugging  viciously  at  the  reins.  A 
moment  later  he  had  turned  the  animal  and  was  head- 
ing for  Callister.  He  sprang  out  of  the  saddle,  slipped 
one  arm  through  the  bridle  and  threw  back  his  shoul- 
ders. 

"Lord!  This  beast  pulls  like  the  devil.  I  bought 
it  at  a  ranch  about  fifty  miles  from  here  without  know- 
ing much  about  him.  My  arms  are  loose  in  their 
sockets."  The  fellow  touched  each  shoulder  gingerly. 

Callister  gazed  at  him  calmly,  trying  to  distinguish 
his  features,  wondering  if  he  had  stopped  solely  for  the 
purpose  of  conversing  about  the  characteristics  of  a 
horse. 

"  You  see,"  went  on  the  rider,  "  I  decided  it  would 
be  a  fine  trip  to  ride  over  certain  portions  of  the  West. 
I  have  read  volumes  about  Texas  and  Flaremont  and 
the  oil  geysers.  I  thought  I'd  like  to  see  'em — those 
geysers.  That's  why  I'm  headed  this  way.  I've 
been  to  the  Yellowstone  and  I  liked  it.  I  thought  per- 
haps this  would  be  something  the  same  with  the  gey- 
sers of  oil  instead  of  water." 


106  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

"  Ah,"  observed  Callister. 

"I  don't  know  my  way,  that  is,  I  am  not  sure  of  it. 
There  were  two  turns  about  ten  miles  back,  and  I  have 
been  afraid  ever  since  that  I  had  taken  the  wrong  one. 
I  kept  to  the  right,  but  was  it  the  wrong?  " 

Callister's  voice  was  not  cordial  in  his  reply :  "  If 
you  want  the  road  to  Flaremont,  you  are  all  right. 
Just  keep  straight  on.  The  town  is  five  miles  from 
this  trail." 

"  Well,  thank  goodness !  My  arms  would  be  clean 
off  if  I  had  much  more  to  ride.  By  the  way,  is  there 
a  good  hotel  there?  " 

"  Not  very.     It  is  crowded  to  the  limit,  anyway." 

"  Well,  that's  pleasant.  What  the  devil  am  I  to  do? 
I  have  got  to  sleep  somewhere  and  got  to  eat,  too.  I 
am  empty.  Perhaps  you  can  tell  me  of  a  house  some- 
where near  where  I  could  put  up  for  the  night.  To- 
morrow I  am  going  on.  But  I  must  have  shelter  till 
daylight." 

The  stranger  looked  up  'the  hill.  At  the  top  the 
lights  were  going  in  Callister's  house,  flickering  and 
winking  through  the  blackness. 

"  Can  you  tell  me  who  lives  up  there  ?  I'm  mighty 
tired.  I  might  get  a  chance  to  stop  there." 

"  I  live  there,"  Callister  admitted,  adding  slowly  and 
very  much  against  his  will,  "  You  can  spend  the  night 
with  me  if  you  care  to.  It  isn't  much  of  a  place  and 
you  won't  find  any  comforts.  It  is  more  of  a  camp 
than  a  house." 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  107 

The  stranger  drew  a  long  breath  of  relief.  "  You 
can  bet  I  am  not  waiting  for  comforts.  All  I  am 
looking-  for  is  a  supper  and  a  bed,  a  couple  of  chairs 
with  a  pillow  and  a  blanket  would  do  me.  I  am  dead 
beat." 

He  turned  the  horse's  head,  still  leading  the  animal 
by  the  bridle,  waiting  for  Callister  to  move  on.  Not 
a  word  more  passed  between  the  two  men.  The  si- 
lence was  profound  again.  The  night  took  back  unto 
itself  the  great  stillness  that  it  loved.  Following  on 
after  the  vaguely  outlined  figure  of  Callister,  a  feeling 
very  much  akin  to  fear  seized  hold  of  the  stranger. 
He  climbed  up  and  up.  Never  had  he  known  such 
quiet.  Never  had  he  experienced  such  darkness. 
Never  had  the  universe  seemed  so  big.  On  every  side 
the  earth  stretched  like  a  sleeping  monster,  becoming 
in  the  night  a  thing  to  be  dreaded,  fraught  with  un- 
known dangers,  exhaling  unspeakable  horrors. 

He  gave  a  nervous  laugh  when  finally  the  house  was 
reached.  But  soon  his  sensation  of  fear  redoubled. 
Under  the  glare  of  the  lamplight  his  host  was  looking 
at  him  with  an  expression  that  made  the  new-comer 
halt,  then  retreat  a  couple  of  steps.  If  he  had  obeyed 
his  dominant  impulse,  he  would  have  turned  and  fled. 

The  truth  was  that  Callister  himself  was  hardly 
aware  of  what  he  was  doing.  At  the  first  glance  he 
sent  towards  the  stranger,  he  was  seized  with  bewilder- 
ment. Certainly  there  was  something  familiar  about 
the  stranger's  face  and  figure.  Where  had  they  met 


108  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

before  ?  Callister  s  first  impression  was  of  some  chance 
acquaintance  between  them,  occurring  long  ago.  Then 
that  impression  passed,  leaving  him  with  a  sense  of  the 
truth  sharpening  his  memory. 

Brusquely  his  attention  riveted  itself  on  the  man 
before  him.  What  was  it  that  he  could  not  recall  ?  At 
every  instant  the  surety  of  having  not  only  seen  him, 
but  known  him  intimately,  during  an  hour  of  greatest 
distress,  became  stronger.  Singularly  interested,  he 
stood,  his  brows  bent  with  his  efforts  to  remember,  his 
eyes  fixed  on  the  other  man's  face,  until  he  felt  ab- 
ruptly that  the  pause  had  grown  awkward. 

Immediately  he  apologized  profusely.  His  guest, 
evidently  immensely  relieved,  gave  a  laugh.  As  he 
seated  himself  he  shook  his  long  hair  away  from  his 
forehead  with  a  curious  thrust  of  his  head  and  neck. 
Callister  uttered  an  exclamation.  It  was  enough.  By 
that  one  move  the  recollection  he  sought  rushed  upon 
him.  Everything  was  clear. 

For  the  moment  the  peculiarity  of  the  affair  was  of 
more  concern  to  Callister  than  his  astonishment  at  the 
revelation.  What  had  occurred  was  so  unnatural,  so 
unreal.  The  impossible  had  happened.  A  vision  had 
matured  into  reality,  the  phantom  figure  of  a  dream 
was  there  before  him  in  flesh  and  blood.  He  was 
looking  at  his  guest,  endeavoring  to  bind  his  forces 
together  in  an  effort  to  offer  the  courtesies  of  his  house, 
every  minute  expecting  some  ghostly  manifestation 
from  this  being,  who  could  not  be  more  than  a  crea- 
ture of  the  imagination. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  109 

It  seemed  as  though  the  stranger  would  never  tire, 
never  go  to  bed.  He  ate  and  smoked  and  talked, 
telling  Callister  endless  stories  of  himself  and  his 
travels.  He  had  given  his  name  as  Archibald  Orton, 
and  he  made  himself  very  comfortably  at  home.  He 
asked  for  tobacco  and  rolled  cigarette  after  cigarette 
with  a  dexterous  twist  of  his  thumb  and  first  finger. 
About  ten  o'clock,  hearing  Callister's  servant  pass 
through  the  room,  he  raised  his  voice  ordering  a  drink 
of  whisky.  And  still  he  talked  incessantly  of  coun- 
tries he  had  visited.  It  seemed  he  had  been  every- 
where. 

The  hours  dragged  interminably.  After  that  first 
swift  understanding  had  broken  on  Callister,  his 
imagination  had  run  on  and  on  until  a  qualm  of  some- 
thing very  like  awe  was  upon  him.  He  longed  to  get 
away,  to  go  out  into  the  still,  dark  night  by  himself, 
and  think  this  thing  over.  But  it  was  nearly  midnight 
when  Orton  stood  up,  stretching  himself,  yawning, 
throwing  out  his  arms. 

"Well,"  he  declared,  "I've  gabbled  enough.  I'll 
turn  in.  It  must  be  getting  on  towards  midnight." 

Callister  arose  at  once,  showing  Orton  into  his  own 
bedroom.  For  that  night  he  himself  would  sleep  in 
the  laboratory.  The  two  shook  hands,  then  Orton 
closed  and  locked  the  door,  trying  it  after  it  was  fas- 
tened. 

The  other  man,  infinitely  relieved,  strode  out  onto 
the  porch,  seating  himself  at  a  corner  farthest  from 


110  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

the  bedroom  and  staring  thoughtfully  across  the  coun- 
try enshrouded  in  impenetrable  darkness. 

Never  had  he  been  so  perplexed.  His  thoughts  shot 
back  to  his  first  meeting  with  this  man.  It  was  not 
a  picture  easy  to  forget.  He  remembered  every  inci- 
dent of  it,  every  detail,  as  distinctly  as  though  months, 
not  years,  had  elapsed  since  this  Orton  had  come  like  a 
ghost  formed  out  of  the  very  darkness  itself  and  called 
to  him  for  help.  His  face  that  night  had  not  been  as 
it  was  to-night,  serene,  smiling,  self-satisfied,  but  bor- 
dering on  the  dementia  of  extreme  terror. 

Under  the  influence  of  that  vision  that  never  had 
been  cleared  from  his  mind,  Callister  sat  motionless, 
his  chin  propped  on  his  hands,  looking  about  him 
vaguely,  hardly  daring  to  trust  to  his  thoughts.  Many 
strange  and  mysterious  things  had  come  to  him  in  his 
life:  episodes  for  which  there  seemed  no  logical  ex- 
planation; illusions  that  had  touched  on  the  super- 
natural, but  nothing  had  ever  affected  him  as  had  that 
intangible  figure  poised  over  his  bed  in  the  dead  of 
night,  in  an  agony  of  dumb  fear,  a  mute  expression  of 
wild  appeal  written  in  every  line  of  the  terrifying  face. 

Now  even  more  mysterious  was  this  sudden  reap- 
pearance in  the  flesh  of  that  same  man.  What  could 
he  want  ?  What  did  it  all  mean  ?  Why  had  they  met 
to-night  on  the  roadside  in  the  dark  ?  What  would  his 
coming  bring  to  Callister? 

The  questions  recoiled  on  the  man's  nervous,  brood- 
ing temperament  until  he  was  racked  with  uneasiness 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  111 

and  dread  of  the  future.  Something  was  at  work  here 
that  boded  ill  for  some  one,  but  why  was  he  con- 
cerned ? 

All  night  he  sat  thinking  and  thinking,  but  when 
the  day  began  to  whiten  in  the  east  a  certain  quiet  had 
come  to  him  almost  against  his  will, — the  quiet,  ab- 
sorbed from  the  utter  stillness  of  the  great,  silent,  con- 
tented, peaceful  earth. 


112  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

On  the  following  morning,  directly  after  breakfast, 
Callister  began  making  excuses  to  his  guest  for  being 
obliged  to  leave  him  alone. 

"I  am  to  meet  a  friend  at  Flaremont  at  nine  o'clock. 
I  will  have  to'  start  at  once.  But  you  stay  here  as  long 
as  you  like.  There  is  no  hurry  for  you  to>  gO'." 

However,  Orton  was  as  anxious  to  ride  to  Flare- 
mont as  Callister.  He  lighted  a  cigarette,  made  a 
bundle  of  the  things  he  had  used  over  night,  and 
crossed  to  the  shed  that  served  Callister  as  a  stable, 
commenting  on  the  fineness  of  the  day. 

"  Lord,  I'm  lame.  If  that  beast  pulls  to-day  as  it 
did  yesterday,  I  see  my  finish,"  he  observed,  swinging 
himself  stiffly  into  his  saddle.  Callister  rode  a  thor- 
oughbred, a  beautiful  creature,  gentle  as  a  pony,  swift 
as  a  deer.  Orton  gazed  at  the  horse  critically. 
"  Looks  like  a  Kentucky." 

"  It  is,"  nodded  Callister. 

They  set  off,  going  down  the  steep  trail,  Callister 
leading,  Orton  following  closely  after  him.  They 
were  both  good  riders.  Once  on  the  main  road  they 
ran  along  side  by  side,  talking  little,  absorbed  in  the 
perfection  of  the  morning.  Half-way  to  Flaremont 
they  overtook  Jarvis,  spinning  along  on  a  bicycle. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  113 

He  shouted  his  greeting  to  Callister,  adding  imme- 
diately, "  I  wish  you'd  stop  at  the  Masons,  Cal.  The 
men  have  all  arranged  to  meet  me  at  the  architect's 
office  this  morning  at  ten,  to  look  over  the  plans. 
There  are  some  papers,  too,  to-  be  signed.  I  couldn't 
get  at  Randolph  last  night.  He  ought  to  know.  Will 
you  tell  him?  " 

"  All  right,"  answered  Callister. 

'  Then  I'll  spin  ahead.  I  want  to  get  the  estimates 
from  the  contractors.  They  are  to  be  ready  this 
morning  before  our  meeting.'' 

"  Don't  wait.     I'll  bring  Randolph." 

"  What  are  you  building?  "  asked  Orton. 

"  A  refinery." 

"  A  lot  of  you  going  in  on  it  together?  " 

"  Six  of  us." 

"  Oh.     All  of  you  own  oil,  I  suppose?  " 

"  Yes." 

At  last  Mrs.  Mason's  house,  charming,  very  pretty, 
set  in  a  veritable  garden  of  vines  and  flowers,  came 
in  sight.  The  two  riders  galloped  into  the  yard,  pull- 
ing their  horses  up  at  the  door.  At  the  sound  a 
young  girl  appeared  at  the  entrance,  shielding  her  eyes 
from  the  sun  with  one  hand,  as  she  looked  down  at  the 
men.  Instantly  their  hats  came  off.  Orton  muttered  an 
exclamation  under  his  breath  that  Callister  heard.  A 
great  blaze  of  color  rushed  to  his  usually  pale  face,  his 
teeth  clicked.  A  second  later,  he  asked  the  girl  where 
he  could  find  Randolph. 


114  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

Callister  was  not  a  ladies'  man.  Invariably  in  their 
presence  he  felt  an  overwhelming  sense  of  inferiority. 
Women  were  little  less  than  angels  in  his  mind ;  beings 
to  be  worshiped  and  looked  after,  as  one  would  care 
for  some  rare  and  fragile  work  of  art.  He  never  knew 
what  to  say  to  them.  He  had  even  been  known  to  use 
atrocious  grammar  in  trying  to  talk  to  a  girl.  He  was 
uncomfortably  conscious  of  his  size,  and  his  nervous- 
ness was  so  intense  as  to  make  him  appear  either  stu- 
pid or  foolish. 

But  his  embarrassment  never  was  so  great  as  when 
he  came  into  the  presence  of  Gabrielle  Mason.  The 
wonderful  beauty  of  this  girl  all  but  overpowered  him, 
actually  causing  him  to  suffer,  yet  he  would  have  given 
years  of  his  life  to  have  shown  to  advantage  before 
her. 

The  fame  of  Gabrielle's  beauty  had  spread  beyond 
Flaremont.  Although  a  Southerner,  coming  from 
Alabama,  she  was  a  blonde  of  the  most  pronounced 
type.  Her  hair  was  a  flambant  mass  of  gold,  her  eyes 
were  deep  blue,  very  large  and  very  round.  Her  skin, 
delicately  pink,  dazzlingly  pure,  had  the  milky  transpar- 
ency of  china.  Every  feature  of  her  countenance  was 
so  absolutely  perfect,  so  absolutely  regular,  that  she 
resembled  the  masterpiece  of  some  genius  rather  than 
a  living,  breathing  piece  of  organism. 

In  looking  at  her  one  forgot  to  expect  character,  or 
evidences  of  strength.  One  never  felt  any  disappoint- 
ment at  failing  to  hear  wisdom  fall  from  her  lips. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  115 

Everything  was  overlooked  under  stress  of  her  mar- 
velous beauty. 

Orton  was  not  the  first  man  who  had  exclaimed  at 
what  he  saw,  but  her  presence  apparently  stimulated 
him.  Unlike  Callister,  he  was  not  constrained,  but  all 
grace  and  polish  and  ease.  He  acknowledged  the  in- 
troduction with  extreme  courtesy.  His  eyes  met  hers 
with  a  glance  of  bold  admiration,  but  his  attitude  was 
so  self -depreciating,  so  full  of  respect  towards  her, 
that  his  open  interest  could  not  offend. 

Immediately  he  opened  the  conversation,  keeping  up 
a  flow  of  small  talk  with  scarcely  a  break  or  an  inter- 
ruption. Gabrielle  listened,  frankly  showing  her  de- 
light. She  had  never  before  met  a  man  who  possessed 
manners  like  these.  It  was  a  vision  of  another 
realm,  the  world  of  fashion,  where  everything  was 
well-bred,  decorous,  very  genteel.  He  found  innumer- 
able chances  for  compliments,  phrases  of  flagrant  flat- 
tery that  never  intruded,  but  rolled  off  his  tongue  with 
a  glib  volubility. 

Meanwhile  Callister  had  a  hunt  for  Randolph,  finally 
finding  him  at  the  oil-well.  He  delivered  his  message 
and  hurried  back,  furious  at  leaving  Orton  so  long 
with  Gabrielle.  He  could  hear  the  girl's  laugh  ring 
out  every  few  minutes.  As  he  approached  the  house, 
he  saw  the  two  were  talking  gaily,  with  almost  aston- 
ishing intimacy.  Gabrielle  was  standing  by  Orton's 
horse,  patting  the  animal's  head,  putting  her  own  ex- 
quisite cheek  against  the  creature's  neck. 


110  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

To  Callister's  mind  it  was  a  strange  proceeding. 
These  two  had  been  acquainted  barely  ten  minutes  and 
already  were  on  far  better  terms  than  he  and  she  had 
ever  been  in  the  year  he  had  known  her.  They  must 
have  progressed  with  astonishing  rapidity  to  reach 
such  an  understanding. 

His  spirits  sank  to  the  lowest  ebb.  He  ought  to 
have  realized  long  ago  he  had  no  chance  with  a  girl 
like  this.  He  would  only  terrify  her  with  his  brusque- 
ness  and  lack  of  refinement  and  huge  size.  But  it 
was  hardly  fair  for  her  to  take  up  so  easily  with  an 
absolute  stranger.  He  mounted  his  thoroughbred, 
turning  away  with  barely  a  glance  towards  the  girl,  his 
bearing  showing  to  marked  disadvantage  beside  the 
other  man's. 

"  I  can't  wait,  Orton.  Good-morning,  Miss  Gabri- 
elle,"  he  called,  touching  a  spur  to  his  horse  in  pre- 
tense of  great  hurry. 

But  to  his  utter  amazement,  as  he  rode  away  no  an- 
swering gallop  followed.  Was  it  possible  Orton  had 
remained  ?  Had  he  no  manners,  no  sense  at  all !  At 
the  gate,  Callister  overcame  his  pride  and,  turning  in 
the  saddle,  looked  back. 

Orton  stood  with  his  back  to  the  road,  talking  to 
Mrs.  Mason,  who  had  just  come  out  of  doors.  Hat  in 
hand,  very  polite,  very  punctilious,  even  his  attitude 
was  giving  the  expression  of  his  pleasure  at  meeting 
these  ladies.  He  made  no  signs  of  leaving.  Gabrielle 
was  still  close  beside  him,  her  eyes  on  his  face,  the 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  117 

strong  sunlight  focused  directly  upon  her,  emphasizing 
every  outline  and  curve  of  her  graceful  figure.  It 
brought  out  the  glory  of  her  hair.  It  revealed  her  per- 
fect beauty,  as  a  reflector  placed  above  a  painting  re- 
veals its  fineness  in  detail.  They  made  a  picture  never 
to  be  forgotten. 

But  the  whole  episode  upset  Callister.  All  the  way 
to  Flaremont  he  raved,  telling  himself  over  and  over 
again  that  although  he  had  always  known  she  was  a 
coquette,  it  did  surprise  him  to  have  her  take  up  with  a 
fellow  like  Orton.  He  had  not  believed  it  of  her.  A 
thirty-cent  chap  at  best,  coming  from  no  one  knew 
where,  having  no  purpose  in  life  beyond  gallivanting 
over  the  country  on  a  horse's  back.  True,  she  was  too 
good,  too  perfect,  too  beautiful  for  him,  Callister  con- 
fessed to  himself,  but  she  was  too  good  for  Orton  as 
well. 

In  spite  of  these  assertions,  Callister  was  very  mis- 
erable. He  began  to  envy  Orton  as  he  despised  him. 
He  made  up  his  mind  that  if  the  fellow  did  not  follow 
his  original  intention  of  departing  from  Flaremont 
that  same  day  he  would  watch  him.  He  would  find 
out  something  definite  about  this  stranger  who  had 
entered  on  the  scene  so  mysteriously. 

Ordinarily  Callister's  temper  was  not  easily  roused. 
His  gravity  and  calm  were  seldom  broken.  His  whole 
attitude  of  mind  was  invariably  towards  the  broader 
outlook.  But  for  the  past  six  months  his  thoughts  had 
been  more  than  usually  occupied  by  this  girl,  whose 


118  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

beauty  was  the  talk  of  the  surrounding  country. 
Everywhere  he  went,  he  carried  with  him  a  clear-cut 
vision  of  her  perfect  face,  her  rounded  figure,  her  glo- 
rious hair.  Even  when  he  worked,  he  caught  himself 
stopping  short  every  little  while,  straightening  up,  his 
mind  leaping  to  the  vine-covered  cottage  where  she 
lived. 

This  state  of  affairs  roused  in  him  a  kind  of  tumult. 
He  was  angry  with  himself,  impatient  with  his  foolish- 
ness, at  the  same  time  sheepishly  happy  whenever,  per- 
mitting his  imagination  to  run  loose,  he  pictured  a  fu- 
ture that  brought  them  together.  Abruptly  he  began  to 
watch  furtively  for  possible  rivals.  Men  whom  she 
might  favor  out  of  the  group  who  continually  sought 
the  Mason  house.  So  far,  he  had  been  unable  to  pick 
out  one  whom  she  marked  with  special  attention. 

The  fact  was,  Gabrielle  encouraged  all  who  came 
with  startling  equality.  Everywhere  she  went  a  crowd 
of  men  trailed  behind  her.  She  accepted  this  as  her 
right  and  expected  the  homage  of  her  followers.  But 
Callister  had  looked  on  unaffected  by  what  he  saw. 
There  was  safety  in  numbers.  Now,  however,  a  new 
fellow  had  come  on  the  scene.  Immediately  Callister 
became  moody.  She  had  taken  up  with  him  very 
quickly.  Perhaps  she  found  something  in  Orton  that 
won  her  fancy.  There  was  no  telling  what  caught 
a  girl.  But  one  thing  about  it,  a  day  had  been  the 
limit  this  Orton  had  set  to  remain  in  the  neighbor- 
hood. Matters  couldn't  progress  very  far  in  one  day. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  119 

Immensely  relieved,  Callister  began  to  breathe  more 
freely. 

The  men  arrived  at  the  meeting-place  promptly  at 
ten.  Jarvis  was  in  great  spirits.  Everything  was 
working  well.  Papers  necessary  for  the  formation  of 
the  Company  were  ready,  the  plans  were  drawn  and 
specifications  made;  in  fact,  no  difficulties  had  pre- 
sented themselves. 

"  It's  a  fair  beginning  of  the  battle,  gentlemen," 
said  Jarvis,  after  giving  his  report  of  what  was  al- 
ready accomplished.  "  We  will  soon  be  in  a  state 
where  we  can  not  only  maintain  our  place  in  the  market 
against  large  odds,  but  rehabilitate  ourselves  in  part 
for  what  we  are  losing  during  this  wait.  Of  course,  a 
little  more  money  would  be  a  splendid  thing.  We  can 
get  on  as  we  are,  but  we  would  be  freer  if  we  had  more 
leeway." 

"  We  ain't  going  to  get  stuck,  Mr.  Jarvis,  are  we? 
Put  up,  and  put  up,  until  we've  chucked  in  all  we've 
got,  then  have  proceedings  stop  for  lack  of  funds  ?  " 
Morton's  eyes  shifted  uneasily.  He  was  gazing  at  the 
floor,  his  ringers  working  spasmodically. 

"  Why,  no,  Morton ;  we  figured  that  all  out.  I  be- 
lieve it  was  explained  carefully  to  each  one,"  replied 
Jarvis. 

"  That  hits  the  case,"  muttered  Lawler. 

"  You  ain't  going  to  lose  anything,"  shouted  Hale, 
"  and,  Morton,  see  here,  it's  too  late  to  back  out. 
You're  in  this  Company  to  stay.  Moreover,  we  ain't 


120  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

going  to  have  any  complaining  nor  any  rupture. 
Every  move  so  far  has  been  talked  about  and  argued 
upon  by  each  man  jack  of  us.  We're  none  of  us  swin- 
dlers. I  guess  if  we  can  put  our  money  in  this  scheme, 
you  don't  stand  to  lose  much  by  following  suit." 

"  I  ain't  complaining.  It's  only  I've  known  how  it 
feels  to  be  hungry  and  poor — poorer  than  you  can 
think  of,  suffering  poor.  My  little  pile  came  hard.  I 
don't  want  it  to  slip  away." 

"  Oh,  rot !  "  muttered  Hale. 

"  That  hits  it!  "  responded  Lawler. 

"  We  understand  how  you  feel,  Morton,  but  there's 
no  cause  for  alarm.  Gentlemen,"  Jarvis  turned  to  the 
group  about  him,  "  if  it's  agreed  that  everything  so 
far  is  O.  K.  we  break  ground  to-morrow  for  the  re- 
finery. Shall  I  give  the  word  ?  " 

The  acquiescence  was  unanimous.  Five  minutes 
later  Jarvis,  Mason  and  Callister  descended  from  the 
office  to  the  street.  An  air  of  briskness  pervaded  all 
Flaremont.  Daily  the  city  grew  in  size  and  activity. 
There  remained  but  a  week's  work  to  finish  the  trolley 
line.  A  large  group  of  men  and  boys  centered  them- 
selves where  they  could  watch  proceedings,  apparently 
very  interested  in  every  detail  of  the  performance. 
The  sidewalks  were  filled  with  a  changing,  mingling 
mass  of  people.  The  stores  were  doing  a  rushing  busi- 
ness. The  three  men  elbowed  their  way  along,  ex- 
changing salutations  with  people  they  knew,  talking 
between  themselves  at  every  chance. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  121 

"  I'm  going  in  to  see  Eberlie.  By  the  way,  did  you 
notice  that  the  Eastern  oil  men  have  sent  a  representa- 
tive here?  The  paper  spoke  of  his  arrival  last  night," 
Tarvis  asked  of  Callister. 

"  No,  I  haven't  seen  a  paper.  What's  he  here  for? 
Trying  to  find  out  if  any  of  us  mean  business?  " 

"  We  ought  to  keep  our  plans  from  him,  don't  you 
think  so  ?  "  suggested  Randolph.  "  What's  his  name?  " 

"  Wilmarth.  I  forget  the  initials.  Oh,  I  don't  be- 
lieve he's  up  to  anything  special.  Those  big  amalga- 
mations of  power  make  a  point  of  keeping  posted, 
sending  their  agents  around  the  country  to  see  what's 
doing.  Flaremont  is  a  factor  in  the  oil  trade  now. 
They  know  it  and  they  keep  it  under  surveillance. 
Hello,  there's  Theo." 

The  men  looked  up.  Jarvis  waved  his  hand.  Across 
the  street  Theodora  was  just  coming  from  a  store,  her 
arms  full  of  bundles. 

Randolph  Mason's  face  went  crimson.  Promptly 
he  was  seized  with  uneasiness.  A  sudden  desire  swept 
through  him  to  make  his  adieus  and  hurry  on.  But 
before  he  could  move  through  the  groups  of  people 
she  had  joined  them,  very  breathless,  her  hair  blowing 
about  her  face,  her  usually  pale  cheeks  flushed. 

"  Oh,  I  am  glad  I  met  you.  Have  you  ever  seen 
such  crowds?  Just  think,  I've  had  to  stand  in  line 
to  get  to  the  counters.  If  this  thing  goes  on  much 
longer,  a  woman  will  have  to  shop  with  a  guard  of 
soldiers.  My,  I'm  tired !  " 


122  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

She  divided  her  packages  between  Callister  and  Jar- 
vis.  Randolph  stood  apart  waiting  to  offer  his  as- 
sistance, too  perturbed  to  speak,  angry  at  his  own 
sheepishness.  Never  had  Theo  looked  prettier.  She 
wore  a  dress  of  pale  pink  dimity  with  a  pink  satin  rib- 
bon tight  about  her  neck,  a  pink  satin  sash  about  her 
waist.  On  her  head  was  a  straw  hat,  trimmed  with 
pink  ribbon  and  flowers.  She  was  inexpressibly  dainty. 

"  Bud,  how  did  you  come  down?  "  she  said,  as  they 
started  to  walk  on.  "  I  walked  and  I  am  so  tired." 

"  I  rode  over  on  my  wheel,  Theo,  but  you  ought  to 
drive  home.  I'll  tell  yon, — you  wait  here  while  I  go 
back  and  bring  over  the  buckboard.  You  mustn't 
walk  back." 

"  Nonsense,  it  would  use  up  all  your  morning,"  she 
protested. 

"  Well,  what  of  it  ?  I  sha'n't  have  you  using  your- 
self up  like  this.  It  won't  do.  You'll  be  down  sick 
from  pure  lack  of  care,"  Jarvis  declared. 

"  Do  I  look  like  some  sort  of  a  house-plant  ?  "  she 
questioned. 

"  Yes,  you  do,"  announced  Callister.  "  Only  pret- 
tier ;  you're  like  a  flower." 

Theo  laughed.  "  Oh,  Mr.  Callister,  that  won't  do 
from  you.  Besides,  I  was  not  fishing." 

But  Jarvis  was  insisting  on  his  idea.  "  Now,  dear, 
I  will  go  get  my  wheel.  Cal  and  Randolph  will  keep 
you  company  till  I  come  back.  It  won't  take  an  hour." 
Jarvis  started  off. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  123 

Theo  caught  his  arm.  "  It's  perfectly  ridiculous," 
she  began. 

All  at  once  an  idea  occurred  to  Randolph.  He  took 
his  resolution  firmly  in  both  hands.  He  raised  his  eyes 
to  Jarvis'  face,  apparently  ignoring  Theo. 

"  I  drove  over,  and  I  would, — if  you  like, — that  is, 
if  Miss  Jarvis  will  allow  me,  I  will  be  so  glad  to  take  her 
home." 

"  Thanks,  Randolph,  this  is  kind  of  you.  Theo, 
when  will  you  be  ready?  " 

"  You  are  sure  it  won't  be  out  of  your  way,  Mr. 
Mason?"  inquired  Theo,  anxiously. 

"  No,  indeed ;  you  don't  know  how  glad  I  am  to  do 
it.  I  put  the  horse  in  the  stable.  If  you  will  wait  at 
{he  corner " 

"  Of  course,  and  thank  you  so  much." 

He  was  off  with  great  speed. 

Nor  had  they  long  to  wait.  Five  minutes  later, 
Randolph  drove  up  in  an  open  buggy,  pulling  alongside 
the  curbing  in  front  of  a  corner  drug  store.  Theo 
piled  her  packages  at  their  feet.  She  threw  a  kiss  to 
Jarvis  and  waved  to  Callister.  Then,  as  the  two  drove 
off,  Jarvis  and  Callister  stood  looking  after  them,  both 
busy  with  certain  thoughts. 

There  was  a  pause.  Callister,  full  of  his  own  af- 
fairs with  Gabrielle,  suddenly  found  an  unformed  pos- 
sibility in  the  sight  of  Theo  and  Randolph.  It  did  not 
take  much  keenness  to  see  what  Mason's  face  ex- 
pressed. He  was  a  capital  fellow.  Theo  might  look 


124  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

farther  and  fare  worse.  Still,  it  would  leave  Jarvis 
pretty  much  alone. 

'  That's  the  way  with  girls,"  he  announced,  vaguely. 
"  Just  let  them  get  to  a  point  where  they  are  of  use, 
where  you  begin  to  depend  on  'em  and  need  'em,  and 
some  fellow  up  and  takes  them." 

Jarvis  gave  a  start.  "  What  are  you  talking  about  ?  " 
His  voice  was  sharp. 

"  I  was  talking  about  girls  and  thinking  about 
Theo.  You  can't  expect  to  keep  that  sister  of  yours  to 
yourself  always,  Jarvis." 

"  Why  not  ?  "  he  demanded,  fiercely.  Callister 
looked  at  him  and  gave  a  short  laugh. 

"  Why  not?  Well,  just  look  at  those  two  and  get 
your  answer,"  he  remarked,  pointing  to  the  buggy  dis- 
appearing down  the  road,  Theo's  pink  dress  plainly 
visible  against  the  black  vehicle. 

Jarvis  stared.  The  light  had  died  out  of  his  face. 
He  looked  pale  and  rather  tired,  as  though  all  at  once 
the  strain  of  the  past  two  days  had  set  a  weight  on  him 
that  he  could  not  rise  above.  He  turned  abruptly  to 
Callister.  "  I  believe  I  will  go  home.  I  won't  stop 
to  see  Eberlie  this  morning.  My  errand  there  can 
wait.  Come  over  to-morrow  when  the  men  begin 
work.  So  long,  Cal." 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  125 


CHAPTER  IX. 

The  weeks  passed  swiftly.  Already  the  winter 
months  were  at  hand,  but  the  magnificent  weather 
held.  As  Jarvis  had  predicted,  there  had  been  no  de- 
lays. The  Company  was  legally  incorporated.  The 
refinery  was  being  pushed  to  completion.  There  was 
a  strenuous  gaiety  in  the  attitude  of  the  six  men  who 
were  taking  the  first  steps  towards  their  independence, 
making  the  first  stride  towards  a  palpable  achievement. 
All  of  a  sudden  the  possibilities  loomed  big  before  them. 
They  began  to  look  upon  themselves  as  citizens  of  in- 
fluence and  power.  Their  Company  assumed  a  vast  im- 
portance. These  men,  these  strikers  of  oil,  all  of  whom 
had  fought  an  uphill  battle  for  a  bare  existence,  over- 
coming tremendous  odds,  abruptly  saw  themselves  be- 
coming foremost  figures  in  their  state.  The  cherished 
dreams  of  a  lifetime  were  about  to  materialize  beyond 
their  wildest  hopes.  An  easy  victory  over  competition 
seemed  theirs.  With  the  true  spirit  of  the  West  it  was 
a  fortune,  not  a  competence,  about  to  be  won. 

Everywhere  else  in  the  region,  the  oil  situation  was 
at  a  standstill.  The  first  skirmish  between  the  two 
forces  was  on,  with  the  odds  all  in  favor  of  the  great 
Eastern  combination.  Low  prices  and  exorbitant 


126  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

freight  tariffs  had  closed  the  industry  to  individuals, 
and  except  where  the  men  dealt  directly  with  the  East- 
ern Petroleum  Company,  not  a  gallon  of  the  fluid  was 
sold.  The  situation  had  practically  resolved  itself  into : 
Cooperation  with  the  trust,  or  ruin. 

Wilmarth,  the  Eastern  representative  in  Flaremont, 
stood  ready  to  buy  any  well  that  was  offered.  The 
only  men  who  were  not  approached  were  the  six  form- 
ing the  Flaremont  Independent  Refiners  Company. 

Jarvis  saw  in  this  fact  a  subject  for  grave  considera- 
tion. "  He's  got  something  up  his  sleeve.  We,  who 
really  are  the  men  most  to  be  feared,  are  the  only  ones 
he  has  not  a  word  for,"  he  declared,  talking  the  matter 
over  with  Callister.  "  I've  kept  watch  of  this  thing 
and  I  don't  like  it." 

"  Perhaps  it  is  the  fact  of  the  Company  that  holds 
him  back.  He  knows  that  not  one  of  us  can  sell  as  in- 
dividuals and  the  six  of  us  wouldn't  part  with  the  prop- 
erty if  we  could,"  replied  Callister. 

Jarvis  shook  his  head.  "  No,  he  wouldn't  sit  down 
without  making  some  sort  of  a  try  if  he  wanted  what 
we  have.  I  wish  I  knew  what  he  is  up  to.  You  can  bet 
there's  something.  I  am  not  a  backslider,  nor  a  cow- 
ard, either,  you  know  that,  but  at  times  I  wonder  just 
what  current  of  events  we  are  being  caught  in  when 
we  antagonize  a  force  like  that  Eastern  Petroleum 
Company." 

But  it  was  too  late  to  weaken.  If  they  had  entan- 
gled themselves  hopelessly  in  an  affair  that  meant  ruin, 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  127 

there  was  nothing  to  do  but  go  on  and  on  to>  the  bitter 
end.  If  the  trust  had  set  a  trap  to  corner  them,  prob- 
ably they  would  never  know  it  until  the  spring  snapped 
and  they  were  held  fast,  cut  off  from  all  escape. 

However,  Jarvis  was  as  yet  the  only  man  really 
alarmed.  Where  he  saw  danger  the  others  saw  only 
the  cautious  postponement  of  action  on  the  part  of  the 
enemy.  They  all  beamed  with  satisfaction  at  the  near 
completion  of  the  refinery. 

About  this  time  Callister  finished  his  electrical  ap- 
pliance for  the  refinery's  boilers.  He  showed  it  to  Jar- 
vis,  explaining,  "  It's  a  sure  thing  against  a  blow-up. 
I  don't  believe  a  fellow  trying  to  explode  a  boiler  could 
accomplish  it  with  this  regulator  of  mine." 

"  Oh,  that's  what  you've  been  doing  lately,  is  it?  " 
Jarvis  demanded,  looking  at  him,  critically. 

"Yes.    Why?" 

"  I  knew  you  were  up  to  something,  overworking, 
somehow.  The  truth  is,  old  man,  you  aren't  looking 
altogether  up-to-date.  Don't  overdo.  We  can't  spare 
you;  I  can't  spare  you.  You  don't  take  rest  enough." 
Jarvis  put  one  hand  affectionately  on  Callister's  shoul- 
der. 

Callister  shook  his  head,  gazing  straight  before  him. 
"  It  isn't  my  work  that  bothers  me.  It's — it's  some- 
thing else.  I've  wanted  to  tell  you  for  a  long  time,  but 
somehow  I  couldn't;  the  thing  wouldn't  come  out." 

"  Let's  have  it,  Cal." 

"  It  isn't  really  much.  When  I  come  to  put  it  into 
words,  it  sounds  ridiculous."  The  man's  glance  fell. 


128  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

"  You  are  never  ridiculous,  my  friend,"  said  Jarvis. 
As  he  took  careful  note  of  Callister,  he  saw  how  really 
ill  the  man  looked.  His  face  was  thin;  great  hollows 
had  formed  in  his  cheeks,  and  Jarvis  remembered  how 
a  dozen  times  a  day  Callister  would  sink  into  a  kind 
of  reverie,  an  abstraction  from  which  nothing  roused 
him. 

Drawing  back  in  his  chair,  his  eyes  still  fixed  on  the 
distant  horizon,  Callister  asked  abruptly,  "  Jarvis,  do 
yon  know  this  fellow  Orton  ?  " 

"  Only  by  sight.  I  have  seen  him  riding  with  Ga- 
brielle  Mason." 

"  Well,  that's  what  I  want  to  talk  to  you  about.  I 
know  you'll  understand.  At  least,"  he  added,  quietly, 
"  you  won't  laugh.  It  happened  long  ago,  ten  or  twelve 
years,  when  I  was  working  hard ;  experimenting,  study- 
ing, staying  up  half  the  night  to  finish  things  I  had 
become  interested  in.  One  night  after  I  went  to  bed 
I  couldn't  sleep.  I  can't  explain  to  you  just  how  I 
felt.  "  I  wasn't  nervous,  but  uneasy,  troubled.  It  was 
raining  hard.  The  blackness  was  intense,  almost  thick. 
It  was  quiet,  too,  as  a  churchyard.  There  was  not  a 
sound  anywhere  except  the  clatter  of  the  storm.  Sud- 
denly, without  the  least  warning,  something  formed  it- 
self in  the  darkness  at  the  foot  of  my  bed.  I  wasn't 
dreaming,  Jarvis.  Something  took  shape  there  before 
me,  growing  clearer  every  minute,  actually  poising 
itself  in  midair  before  me." 

Callister  paused.  His  voice  was  husky.  Jarvis  sat 
rigid  in  his  chair,  motionless  with  wonder. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  129 

"  For  a  moment  I  was  frightened,"  Callister  finally 
went  on.  "  Then  I  was  angry.  It  seemed  absurd.  I 
jumped  up  from  my  bed,  but,  once  my  feet  touched  the 
floor,  I  stood  paralyzed  with  awe.  The  vision  did  not 
move.  Instead,  it  grew  clearer.  I  was  face  to  face 
with  it,  and  so  close  I  had  but  to  stretch  forth  my  arm 
to  touch  it.  Everywhere  else  in  the  room  it  was  as 
black  as  the  night  could  make  it,  and  only  the  beat  of 
the  rain  broke  the  silence." 

"  What  was  it?  What  was  the  vision?  "  asked  Jar- 
vis,  leaning  forward,  intensely  interested. 

"  The  figure  of  a  man,  an  appalling  figure.  He 
seemed  to  be  trying  to  escape  some  danger.  His  face 
was  marked  by  the  most  terrible  expression  of  human 
anguish  and  fear  that  I  have  ever  seen.  Never,  never 
can  I  forget  how  he  looked."  Callister  hesitated  a  mo- 
ment, wiping  his  forehead,  taking  a  quick  breath. 
"  For  fully  five  minutes  the  thing  hung  before  me,  then 
it  began  to  fade.  Bit  by  bit  it  melted  into  the  shadows 
of  the  surrounding  gloom.  I  sprang  for  a  light.  There 
was  nothing  there.  For  months  I  waited  and  watched, 
brooding  over  the  affair.  I  was  fearfully  upset ;  I 
couldn't  understand  it.  The  face  was  so  distinct  and 
so  terrible  it  haunted  me.  But  the  vision  never  came 
again,  nothing  unusual  happened.  Then  I  tried  to 
forget,  tried  to  put  it  all  out  of  my  mind." 

Suddenly  Callister  arose  to  his  feet.  A  reaction  was 
coming  on  him.  His  eyes  were  shining  with  a  strange 
brilliancy.  "  After  all  these  years,  just  as  I  was  be- 


130  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

ginning  to  get  the  affair  out  of  my  thoughts,  the 
strange  part  comes,"  he  cried.  "  Three  months  ago>,  in 
the  early  evening,  I  met  a  man  riding  towards  me.  He 
stopped,  demanding  shelter  in  my  house.  I  could  not 
refuse  him,  though  it  was  not  until  he  was  under  my 
roof  that  I  had  a  look  at  his  face.  Jarvis,  the  man 
whom  I  had  taken  in  was  the  man  I  had  seen  in  that 
vision.  I  know  it.  It  is  no  trick  of  my  imagination. 
1  am  not  crazy.  It  was  Orton  that  came  to  me  out  of 
the  darkness  years  ago.  Here,  again,  in  my  room, 
under  my  care,  was  Orton  in  flesh  and  blood." 

"  Are  you  sure,  Callister,  are  you  sure?  "  exclaimed 
Jarvis,  as  fully  roused  as  Callister. 

"  God  knows  I  am.  But  to  go  on.  He  seemed  gen- 
tlemanly enough.  I  was  so  unnerved  that  I  couldn't 
remember  the  barest  courtesies.  All  I  could  do  was  to 
stare  and  listen.  He  said  his  intention  was  to  stay 
only  twenty-four  hours  in  Flaremont.  He  was  making 
a  tour  across  the  state  on  horseback,  carrying  out  some 
whim  of  travel.  He  was  here  to  see  the  oil  regions, 
the  geysers  particularly.  The  next  morning  he  and  I 
rode  together  towards  Flaremont.  By  accident  he  met 
Gabrielle  Mason.  You  remember  it  was  the  day  you 
asked  me  to  go  there  on  an  errand.  He  went  with  me. 
Well,  instead  of  going  in  twenty-four  hours,  he  is 
still  here,  spending  hours  of  every  day  with  her.  Jar- 
vis,  I  can't  endure  it.  What  is  he?  What  has  he 
done?  Where  has  he  come  from  ?  Is  he  bringing  dan- 
ger to  the  one  woman  whom  of  all  the  world  I  would 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  131 

wish  to  save  from  harm  ?  I've  argiied  the  matter  from 
a  hundred  different  standpoints.  I  am  more  at  sea  than 
ever.  But,  my  God,  it's  driving  me  mad !  I  can  think 
of  nothing  else,  and  I  am  so  powerless.  Who  would  be- 
lieve such  a  yarn  as  this?  More  than  that,  what  evi- 
dence does  it  hold  against  Orton,  even  if  I  should  tell 
the  story  to  people  who  believed?  " 

"  Why  not  tell  Randolph  ?  "  suggested  Jarvis. 

"  Do  you  think  it  would  do  the  least  good  ?  "  ques- 
tioned Callister.  "  Besides,  why  tell  it  ?  What  excuse 
could  I  make  ?  What  course  of  action  could  I  suggest  ? 
I  can  not  give  my  impressions  of  a  thoroughly  unnatu- 
ral occurrence,  and  expect  rational  men  to  regard  me 
as  sane.  Personally,  I  hold  the  vision  as  a  warning; 
though  I  can't  decide  whether  it  means  I  am  to  save 
Orton  from  something,  or  that  I  ought  to  stand  in  the 
way  of  preventing  him  from  harming  some  one  dear 
to  me." 

There  was  a  silence.  A  mysterious  intuition  of  dan- 
ger hung  over  the  men.  Some  small  white  clouds 
moved  overhead  with  deliberate  slowness.  In  front 
of  them,  the  distance  lessened  by  the  marvelously  clear 
atmosphere,  Flaremont  spread  out,  a  dazzling  little 
town  set  under  a  vast  expanse  of  sky.  The  workmen 
were  busy  at  the  refinery.  At  regular  intervals  the 
hammers  clashed  against  the  iron  boilers.  It  was  the 
clamor  that  finally  roused  Jarvis  from  the  disturbing 
thoughts  which  Callister's  story  had  stirred  in  him. 
Something  of  his  own  past  history  had  leaped  to  the 


132  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

front,  demanding  its  place  in  his  mind,  refusing  to  be 
relegated  to  the  background,  and  it  was  to  escape  these 
specters  that  he  passed  his  arm  through  Callister's,  sug- 
gesting a  visit  to  the  new  building. 

The  furnaces  were  being  put  in.  Outside,  the  stills, 
three  great  cylinders,  lay  on  the  ground.  Huge  affairs 
capable  of  handling  two  hundred  barrels  of  crude  oil 
daily,  the  output  of  Jarvis'  own  well,  combined  with 
Lawler's,  Kale's,  Mason's  and  Callister's. 

"  Morton  is  doing  good  work,"  Jarvis  explained,  try- 
ing to  turn  the  subject.  "  He  has  stuck  to  this  thing 
splendidly.  He  has  more  than  won  his  place  in  the 
Company." 

"  Have  you  asked  him  to  put  on  the  electric  safety- 
valves  ?  "  asked  Callister. 

"  Yes.    We  will  need  them  by  Monday." 

The  ground  was  littered  with  iron  and  brick;  in 
every  direction  were  evidences  of  hurried  work.  Mor- 
ton was  everywhere.  One  could  see  him  from  morn- 
ing till  night  giving  orders,  raising  his  voice  to  be 
heard  above  the  boiler-makers,  directing  matters  with 
the  knowledge  and  understanding  of  a  man  familiar 
with  his  business. 

As  Jarvis  and  Callister  came  up,  the- expert  was  ar- 
guing some  point  with  the  contractor.  He  was  in  his 
shirt-sleeves,  his  arms  bare  to  the  elbows,  red  with 
heat,  wet  with  sweat,  his  big  hat  shoved  far  back  on 
his  head,  his  hair  damp  and  matted  on  his  forehead. 

Jarvis  called  to  him,  raising  his  voice  above  the  fear- 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  133 

fill  racket.  Immediately  Morton  went  towards  him. 
He  greeted  Callister,  for  a  brief  second  lifting  his  eyes, 
raising  them  half-way  to  the  other's  face.  As  he  began 
to  speak  they  dropped,  shifting  from  side  to  side,  eye- 
ing the  ground  at  his  feet. 

"  Mr.  Jarvis,  we  will  need  another  storage  tank. 
This  contract  calls  for  two.  We  ought  to  have  three." 

"  All  right ;  just  as  you  say.  You  know  we  all  rely 
on  you  for  this  part  of  the  program,  Morton.  We're 
green  hands  at  the  work  over  here." 

"  And,  Mr.  Callister,  they  say  you've  got  some  sort 
of  a  fixin'  for  the  furnaces, — a  safety-gage.  Well, 
you  better  let  me  have  it.  It  won't  be  long  before 
we'll  get  the  fires  to  going." 

"  I'll  bring  it  to-morrow.  When  ought  you  to  begin 
operating?  " 

"  I  put  it  three  weeks  from  to-day." 

"  We  are  going  to  have  all  the  business  we  can  han- 
dle. Our  shipments  will  be  a  mere  bagatelle.  I've  been 
making  inquiries,  and  I  find  that  we  can  dispose  of 
practically  all  our  refined  products  right  here  in  this 
state.  We  will  be  able  to  avoid  long  runs  and  tariff 
charges  almost  entirely.  We  have  made  no  mistake," 
declared  Jarvis. 

The  three  men  started  towards  the  refinery,  turning 
their  attention  to  matters  of  construction,  forgetting 
for  the  moment  personal  affairs.  They  stopped  before 
the  huge  storage  tanks,  Morton  explaining  how  a  short- 
age of  room  here  would  hinder  the  entire  plant. 


134  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

"  Have  you  looked  over  the  new  tanks  down  near  the 
freight  station?  "  he  asked.  "  They  are  being  put  up 
by  the  Eastern  Petroleum  Company.  They're  dandies, 
the  largest  in  the  state.  We  ought  to  have  one  like 
'em." 

"  Have  they  bought  wells  enough  to  need  such 
tanks?  "  asked  Callister. 

"  They  own  pretty  nearly  all  the  gushers  of  any  ac- 
count in  the  region.  You  gentlemen  seem  to  be  about 
the  only  ones  who  haven't  sold  out,"  Morton  said, 
quietly. 

"  Well,  we're  not  intending  to  sell,  either.  If  those 
Eastern  fellows  are  getting  on  the  inside  like  this, 
though,  we  can  look  for  a  drop  in  rates.  It  won't  be 
worth  their  while  to  fight  us,  especially  after  we  get  to 
operating  here  and  don't  have  to  ship  much,"  observed 
Callister. 

"  No,  when  they  come  to  sell  it  all,  it's  a  different 
matter.  The  railroads  will  come  to  time  then."  A 
moment  later  Jar  vis  added,  "  But  it's  a  good  thing  we 
are  entirely  free  of  any  outsiders.  We  can  supply  our 
refinery  with  crude  oil  as  well  as  get  rid  of  our  fin- 
ished stock,  within  a  radius  of  a  few  miles.  If  we  de- 
pended wholly  on  outside  wells  to  give  us  work,  we 
might  be  stuck — always  providing  that  the  Eastern 
Petroleum  Company  isn't  friendly." 

The  five  o'clock  whistles  sounded.  Already  it  was 
growing  dark.  The  men  stopped  their  work,  crossing 
the  stretch  of  lawn  from  the  refinery  to  the  main  road, 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  135 

their  lunch  boxes  in  their  hands,  their  tools  slung  over 
their  shoulders.  Now  and  then  one  stopped  short  to 
light  his  pipe,  another  one  pressed  forward  to  join  a 
group  ahead,  or  to  speak  with  a  comrade,  but  one  and 
all  passed  the  time  of  day  with  Jarvis. 

"  I  must  be  getting  home.  Good-night,"  said  Mor- 
ton, starting  suddenly.  Jarvis  and  Callister  strolled 
towards  the  house. 

'  Three  weeks  more  to  wait,  old  man.  It  seems  al- 
most too  good  to  be  true,  Cal.  Only  a  few  years  ago 
I  hadn't  a  cent  to  my  name.  Every  day  I  wondered 
how  I  could  get  even  a  bite  to  eat.  Now  how  different 
it  is !  Oh,  this  old  Texas  has  been  good  to  me,  mighty 
good.  And  I'm  grateful,  so  very,  very  grateful/'  Jar- 
vis'  voice  broke. 

"  The  oil  has  been  a  godsend  to  many  of  us,  Jarvis. 
I  didn't  begin  desperately  poor,  but  I  hadn't  anything 
easy.  Always  my  hopes  and  thoughts  have  centered 
about  one  thing,  to  have  an  income  sufficient  to  keep 
me  while  I  experimented.  I  don't  want  riches.  Great 
wealth  disgusts  me.  But  I  do  want  a  chance  to  do 
something  worth  while,  something  that  will  find  a 
place  for  the  ultimate  good  O'f  mankind." 

A  silence  ensued.  Side  by  side  these  two  friends 
walked  on,  each  deep  in  his  own  thoughts  that  carried 
him  back  of  these  hours  of  promise ;  reverting  to  mem- 
ories of  days  gone  by  when,  with  trembling  bodies  and 
uncertain  feet,  they  stepped  onto  the  great  wheel  of 
fortune.  How  desperately  they  had  clung  on  as  it 


136  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

swung  up  the  first  quarter  circle  towards  the  future! 
Yet  how  small  a  matter  if  they  had  lost  their  grip  and 
fallen  off.  For  who  was  there  to  care,  who  even  to  no- 
tice? What  of  one  man  more  or  less,  sinking  by  the 
wayside  in  the  struggle  of  life?  What  of  one  failure 
more  or  less  recorded  in  the  eternal,  universal  fight  for 
success  ? 

All  men  flutter  through  the  moment  of  their  exis- 
tence ;  forgotten  instantly,  swept  aside  to  make  room  for 
the  succeeding  generations.  Success  or  failure,  which- 
ever their  lives  may  have  held,  is  of  little  account  in 
the  great  march  of  universal  events. 

The  calm  night  widened  about  them.  The  earth,  un- 
disturbed by  tumults  or  turmoils,  folding  to  itself  the 
mystery  of  peace,  spread  at  their  feet,  immortal,  un- 
changed, unchanging,  teaching  the  lesson  of  peace  her 
children  would  not  learn. 

An  hour  after  his  good-night  to  Jarvis,  Morton 
walked  into  a  saloon  in  Flaremont.  Since  the  boom 
this  place  had  become  very  magnificent.  There  were 
stained-glass  windows  in  front,  an  enormous  bar 
stretching  along  the  entire  left  side,  with  rows  of 
glasses  and  measures,  dishes  of  lemons,  wire  cases  con- 
taining eggs,  phials  of  bitters  and  cordials.  Higher 
up  on  the  shelves  were  row  after  row  of  bottles  re- 
flected in  the  mirror  placed  behind  the  counter.  Two 
bartenders  in  long  white  aprons  and  white  coats,  and 
hair  plastered  on  their  heads  to  an  amazing  smooth- 
ness, stood  waiting,  ready  to  serve  the  customers. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  137 

There  were  tables,  highly  polished,  artificial  palms 
standing  all  about  the  place,  two  oleanders  in  huge 
square  boxes  close  by  the  door.  In  a  hollow  pillar 
made  of  glass  and  filled  with  water,  half  a  dozen  gold- 
fish swam  and  turned  and  dove,  moving  up  and  down 
all  day  long.  An  air  of  great  elegance  brooded  on  the 
Dew  Drop  Inn. 

At  six  o'clock  in  the  evening  the  place  was  practi- 
cally deserted.  Morton  made  his  way  to  a  table  far- 
thest away  from  the  street  door.  Nodding  a  greeting 
to  the  proprietor,  who  sat  reading  a  paper,  he  sat  down, 
keeping  his  eyes  on  the  entrance,  moving  uneasily  in 
his  chair,  very  restless,  very  perturbed.  Every  little 
while  he  pulled  out  his  watch,  anxious  about  the  time, 
listening  to  the  minutes  ticking  themselves  away. 

The  streets  had  fallen  suddenly  quiet.  The  crowds 
had  drifted  off  to  supper.  A  long  wait  ensued.  When 
finally  Wilmarth  came  into  the  wine  shop,  Morton  was 
on  the  point  of  leaving.  His  hands  were  contracted, 
he  was  breathing  heavily  from  his  nostrils,  his  head 
wagged  from  side  to  side. 

Wilmarth  sat  down,  mopping  his  face,  giving  an  im- 
pression of  having  been  hurried.  He  apologized  pro- 
fusely, but  offered  no  definite  cause  for  his  tardiness. 

"What  will  you  take,  Mr.  Morton?"  he  asked, 
catching  his  breath  between  gasps. 

"  Nothing.  Why  did  you  send  for  me  ?  I  came  for 
that,  not  to  drink,"  replied  Morton. 

"  Excellently  put.     I  admire  a  man  who  holds  his 


138  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

head  clear  for  business.  I  believed  you  were  just  such 
a  man.  I  said  to  myself,  long  ago,  '  Now,  of  all  the  six 
gentlemen  forming  the  Flaremont  Independent  Refin- 
ers Company,  Morton  is  the  one  I'll  do  business  with.' 
You're  the  expert  for  them,  aren't  you?  " 

The  question  fell  squarely  from  Wilmarth's  lips. 
His  manner  was  elaborately  sincere.  Morton  shifted 
in  his  chair. 

"  Yes,  I'm  the  expert." 

"  Just  so.  I  guessed  it  from  the  first.  You  are  a 
self-made  man,  too.  I  know  that.  A  man  who  has 
brought  himself  to  the  top  of  a  profession  by  sheer 
worth,  probably  rising  from  poverty — extreme  pov- 
erty." The  voice  was  sympathetic. 

"  Yes,  that's  so ;  I've  been  poor  enough,"  Morton 
answered. 

"  Exactly,  and  the  more  honor  due  to  you  for  what 
you  are  now." 

Wilmarth  pulled  his  chair  close  to  the  other.  He 
leaned  forward,  his  voice  lowered,  his  eyes  fixed  on 
Morton's  face. 

"  Now,  Mr.  Morton,  as  a  man  of  business,  as  a  man 
of  sense  and  judgment,  I  want  to  put  some  facts  before 
you.  You  have  made  your  little  pile  by  hard  work, 
laboring  from  early  till  late,  economizing  in  every 
way." 

Morton,  all  attention,  nodded. 

"  And  it  would  hurt  to  loee  your  little  savings." 

"  Yes,  sir ;  it  would." 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  139 

"  Exactly.  Now,  my  friend,  do  you  know  that  you 
are  on  the  brink  of  ruination,  on  the  very  edge  of  a 
precipice,  standing  where  one  step  advance  will  destroy 
yon?" 

"  I  don't  understand  you,"  muttered  Morton,  his 
face  growing  ashen. 

"May  I  offer  you  something?"  suggested  Wil- 
marth. 

"  No,  I  don't  want  to  drink — yet,"  Morton  replied, 
fiercely ;  "  go  on." 

"  Well,  I  will  go  on.  Perhaps  you  have  heard  of  a 
concern  called  the  Eastern  Petroleum  Company.  Ex- 
actly. Now,  that's  a  Company  that  usually  gets  what 
it  wants,  keeps  what  it  gets,  and  brooks  no  interfer- 
ence. In  fact,  they  are  so  particular  that  if  an  outsider 
is  idiot  enough  to  undertake  an  independent  stand  in 
the  line  of  business  this  Company  controls,  the  idiot 
is  apt  to  get  hurt.  The  Eastern  Petroleum  Company 
is  in  this  oil  deal  to  stay.  Moreover,  it  is  in  to  domi- 
nate. Usually  one  warning  is  enough.  Mr.  Morton, 
you  and  your  Company  are  making  a  mistake — a  big, 
a  dangerous  mistake!  " 

There  was  a  pause.    Finally  Morton  spoke. 

"  I  can't  see  it,"  he  muttered. 

"  Then  I'll  show  it  to  you,"  answered  Wilmarth. 
"  You  and  your  Company  are  entering  a  field  that  the 
Eastern  Petroleum  Company  has  started  out  to  control. 
You  are  involving  yourselves  in  a  fight  where  from 
the  beginning  you  have  no  chance,  no  show  whatever. 


140  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

No  matter  what  move  you  make,  you  are  bound  to  be 
forestalled.  Again,  with  a  capital  of  fifty  thousand 
dollars,  which  amount  represents  every  penny  you  all 
possess,  you  are  undertaking  to  run  a  business  against 
a  corporation  capitalized  at  millions.  You  are  setting 
yourselves  up  against  a  body  of  men  whose  word  is  law, 
not  alone  to  the  refineries,  to  the  railroads,  to  the  steam- 
ship lines,  but  to>  the  courts.  Yet  you — you  expect  to 
succeed.  Mr.  Morton,  I'm  honest  with  you  because  I 
hate  to  see  you  beggared,  because  I  want  to  give  you  a 
chance  to  get  out  whole,  before  it  is  too  late." 

The  speaker  tilted  back  his  chair,  his  eyes  fixed  on 
Morton.  What  he  saw  on  his  listener's  face  brought 
an  expression  of  satisfaction  into  his  own  countenance. 

"  It's  damnable !  "  ejaculated  Morton.  "  Why,  look 
at  it.  We're  not  asking  to  take  anybody's  business 
away.  We  build  our  refinery,  supply  it  with  oil  from 
works  that  we  own,  sell  it  to  private  customers.  We 
don't  interfere  with  your  Eastern  concern.  There's 
work  for  all  of  us,  room  for  all  of  us,  money  for  all  of 
us." 

"  There  is  not.  There  is  mighty  little  money  in  oil. 
Look  at  these  figures.  The  cost  of  making  and  the  cost 
of  selling  prove  there's  mighty  little  money.  I've  writ- 
ten it  all  out  here.  At  present  the  only  way  to  make 
a  living  profit  is  by  a  gigantic  combination,  one  power 
that  will  control  the  entire  output  of  the  world.  If  the 
trade  is  divided  among  a  lot  of  small  fry  there's  noth- 
ing for  anyone."  Wilmarth  pulled  out  a  note-book.  It 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  141 

was  filled  with  figures,  elaborate  calculations,  minute 
details,  long  records.  He  talked  and  talked,  showing 
Morton  conclusion  after  conclusion  that  the  profits  in 
oil  were  eaten  up  in  the  manufacture  and  the  selling. 
He  talked  easily,  glibly,  running  over  prices  with  light- 
ning rapidity,  bewildering  Morton  with  amounts,  stu- 
pefying him  by  jumping  swiftly  from  one  subject  to 
another.  Pie  went  into  arguments  that  Morton  could 
not  understand.  His  reiterations,  assertions,  inven- 
tions, declarations,  seemed  to  prove  his  side  of  the 
case.  When  Wilmarth  finished,  folding  up  his  book, 
leaning  back,  his  legs  crossed,  his  face  red  from  exer- 
tion, Morton  had  but  one  idea,  one  thought,  one  under- 
standing. He  stood  in  imminent  peril  of  absolute  ruin, 
stood  ready  to  lose  all  his  accumulated  savings  of  years, 
and  profits  in  oil  were  gross  fallacies. 

He  got  up  on  his  feet.  He  felt  stupid.  His  throat 
was  choked  with  words  that  would  not  come.  He 
wanted  to  get  away  from  the  wine  shop  with  its  fumes 
of  alcohol  that  stifled  him.  He  wanted  to  flee  from 
the  sound  of  the  smooth,  insinuating  voice  that  dinged 
and  harped  only  of  losses. 

In  a  bewildered  way,  with  a  strange  singing  in  his 
ears  and  eyes  blinded  with  sparks,  he  made  his  way 
to  the  door.  He  did  not  speak  to  Wilmarth.  He 
hardly  remembered  him  after  he  passed  around  the 
table  where  the  two  had  sat.  Wilmarth  arose,  stretch- 
ing his  legs,  leisurely  following  his  victim  out  into 
the  street. 

"  Don't  take  this  too  hard ;  there's  a  way  out,  a  good 


142  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

way,  and — perfectly  safe  to  you.  When  you  want  to 
know  about  it  send  me  word.  My  time  is  yours,"  Wil- 
marth  said,  easily. 

Morton  nodded  in  reply,  still  unable  to  speak.  He 
passed  his  fingers  through  his  hair,  quickening  his 
steps.  He  must  be  alone,  all  alone,  the  world  and 
people  shut  outside. 

Once  in  his  home,  the  storm  broke.  Clenching  his 
fists,  he  beat  the  air,  raving,  lifting  his  voice  in  curses, 
pouring  out  a  tempest  of  rage  and  despair.  By  degrees 
his  emotion  became  so  intense,  he  had  no  idea  what  he 
did.  A  fearful  pain  shot  through  his  temples,  his  eyes 
were  bloodshot,  he  bumped  against  the  walls  of  the 
room,  then  retreated  with  a  scream  of  terror,  shaking 
his  hands  and  arms  at  imaginary  foes,  believing  he  had 
been  suddenly  attacked.  They  were  stealing  his  money, 
taking  away  his  savings,  depriving  him  of  food  and 
warmth  and  shelter — they  who  had  everything,  steal- 
ing from  him,  a  poor  man,  an  honest,  hard-working 
man,  who  asked  nothing  of  anyone  but  the  necessities 
of  life.  Well,  let  'em  come  on;  he'd  meet  'em;  he'd 
give  'em  a  fight  for  it,  anyhow.  Just  let  'em  come  on ! 

Bit  by  bit  the  fierceness  of  his  tirade  wore  out.  From 
sheer  weakness  he  was  obliged  to  sit  down,  shaking 
his  head,  panting,  breathless,  trembling  violently  in 
every  limb.  It  was  then  he  remembered  dimly  Wil- 
marth's  parting  instructions,  "  A  way  out  of  the  fix,  a 
safe  way,  too."  Well,  he'd  see  Wilmarth;  he'd  know 
that  way,  or  something  would  happen — something  for 
which  that  agent  alone  would  be  responsible. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  143 


CHAPTER  X. 

The  months  following  Theo's  first  home-coming 
were  delicious.  She  and  Jarvis  had  taken  possession 
of  their  new  abode,  with  all  the  enthusiasm  of  children ; 
furnishing,  setting  to  rights,  putting  down  carpets, 
hanging  curtains.  Theo  had  been  taught  all  kinds  of 
useful  things  at  the  convent, — how  to  cook  and  dust 
and  sweep.  Then,  she  could  sew  beautifully,  making 
with  equal  ease  an  embroidered  bed-set,  or  a  dress  for 
herself.  She  had  hated  housework  at  the  convent,  but 
here  in  her  own  home,  with  Jarvis,  cleaning  and  put- 
ting in  order  was  a  different  matter.  She  took  infinite 
comfort  in  seeing  Jarvis  contented.  It  became  a  hobby 
with  her  to  \vatch  his  face  for  signs  of  great  pleasure 
or  great  happiness. 

She  had  never  put  any  questions  to  him  concerning 
the  years  of  their  separation,  when  he  had  come  per- 
haps once  every  fifteen  months  to  the  yard  of  the  Con- 
vent of  the  Holy  Mother,  where  he  would  wait  for  her, 
only  the  briefest  visit  ensuing.  She  remembered  her 
childish  joy  over  those  visits.  And  once  when  she 
was  thirteen,  she  had  been  allowed  to>  dine  at  Father 
Beauvais'  house,  with  Jarvis  at  one  end  of  the  table,  the 
priest  at  the  other,  and  she  between  the  two.  It  had 


144  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

been  a  festive  time,  very  gay,  very  enjoyable,  lingering 
in  her  memory  for  months.  In  fact,  Jarvis'  face  was 
never  entirely  out  of  her  mind  afterward.  When  she 
went  to>  bed  at  night,  she  would  lie  staring  wide  awake 
thinking  of  him,  invariably  picturing  him  as  somewhere 
out  on  the  prairie,  following  ceaselessly  on  the  trail  of 
wandering  cattle.  In  her  mind's  eye  he  was  continu- 
ally in  the  saddle,  riding  some  untrained  brute  of  a 
broncho,  always  working,  always  watching,  leading  a 
life  strenuous  far  beyond  his  strength. 

Bit  by  bit,  romance  weaved  itself  about  this  brother 
of  hers.  As  she  grew  older  she  was  glad  when  she  saw 
that  her  face  was  pretty  and  that  her  hair  was  grown 
a  color  he  liked.  She  kept  herself  very  dainty,  very  ex- 
quisite, all  for  him. 

When  finally  the  news  came  that  he  had  struck  oil, 
found  wealth  on  property  he  had  bought  at  a  guess, 
she  was  crazy  with  joy.  She  listened  with  glowing 
face  and  sparkling  eyes  to  the  praises  heaped  on  him; 
his  foresight  in  investing  as  he  did;  the  courage  he 
showed  in  buying  apparently  barren  property  with 
almost  his  last  penny;  his  spirit  of  hazard  in  staking 
everything  on  a  possibility.  All  this  stirred  the  girl 
tremendously. 

He  was  a  brother  to  be  proud  of.  She  was  glad 
they  were  alone,  just  the  two,  that  she  need  not  share 
him  with  anyone.  She  determined  to  make  his  home 
so  happy  that  he  would  have  no  wish  to  seek  out  a 
third  party,  a  wife  who  could  not  appreciate  him,  a 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  145 

woman  who  would  come  there  like  an  interloper,  taking 
her  own  place,  usurping  her  rights.  She  believed  her- 
self influenced  in  this  only  because  of  her  sisterly  af- 
fection. Yet  the  very  thought  of  another  woman  in 
Jarvis'  home  set  her  aflame  with  a  feeling  she  could 
not  define. 

Occasionally  she  confided  this  to  Jarvis.  He  always 
laughed,  immensely  amused,  looking  at  her  in  a  way 
that  brought  a  blush  to  her  white  face.  Then  promptly 
she  would  change  the  subject,  ashamed  at  her  bold- 
ness, feeling  inexplicably  guilty. 

At  the  house  one  Chinaman  did  all  their  work,  going 
about  the  place  in  his  immaculate  white  suit,  his  long" 
queue  coiled  around  his  head.  But  Theo  was  never 
idle.  She  was  busy  all  day  long,  moving  to  and  fro, 
singing  song  after  song,  leading  a  joyous,  secluded  life, 
asking  nothing  better.  In  the  evening  Jarvis  read 
aloud  while  Theo'  sat  close  to  him,  sewing  or  embroi- 
dering, her  beautiful  face  bent  over  her  work,  the  gas- 
light overhead  focusing  its  rays  on  her  glorious  hair. 

No  home  contained  more  joy  than  theirs.  There 
were  never  any  arguments,  any  misunderstandings.  It 
gave  her  the  purest  delight  to  submit  to  him  in  every- 
thing. She  laughed  outright  when  he  expressed  sur- 
prise at  the  way  in  which  they  agreed  on  every 
subject,  wondering  at  the  congeniality  that  existed 
between  them. 

In  spite  of  being  quite  by  herself  hours  of  every  day, 
she  was  never  dull  when  Jarvis  was  within  call;  and 
10 


146  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

when  she  saw  that  daily  he  grew  to  depend  on  her 
more  and  more,  her  face  softened  with  exquisite  ten- 
derness. This  was  so  exactly  as  she  wished  it  to  be. 
Their  life  was  ideal,  their  devotion  to  one  another 
absolute. 

Only  on  one  occasion  had  Jarvis  lost  his  liveliness, 
sitting  through  an  entire  evening  without  a  smile,  his 
eyes  heavy,  his  face  pale.  It  was  after  Callister  had 
called  his  attention  to  Randolph  Mason  and  Theo. 
The  thoughts  that  swept  through  his  mind  then  were 
hardly  to  be  endured.  But  in  the  morning  he  was 
quite  himself  again,  smiling,  talking,  the  air  of  anxiety 
and  gloom  gone. 

One  evening  she  put  aside  her  work,  folding  her 
hands  in  her  lap,  wanting  to  ask  a  question,  yet  for 
some  reason  hesitating.  Jarvis  watched  her.  "  What 
is  it,  Theo?  "  he  demanded. 

"  Bud,  clear,  I  want  to  talk  to  you  about  long  ago, 
about  the  time  when  you  put  me  in  the  convent." 

Jarvis  started,  but  he  answered  her  quietly  enough, 
"  Yes,  Theo.  Can  you  remember  when  I  took  you  up 
there?" 

"  Very  well.  I  can  remember  before  that,  too.  Not 
very  distinctly,  only  that  we  started  on  an  endless 
drive,  you  and  mother  and  father  and  I.  But  when 
we  came  here,  there  were  only  the  two  of  us  left." 

"  Yes,  dear,  only  the  two  of  us.  She,  the  dearest 
woman  that  ever  lived,  the  one  you  and  I  loved  best 
in  the  world,  and  he,  both  died  out  on  the  desert." 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  147 

"  I  remember,"  she  said,  her  voice  very  low.  "  But 
it  has  bothered  me  that  I  can't  place  you  before  that 
ride.  Why  didn't  you  start  with  us  when  we  left  Cali- 
fornia?" 

Jarvis'  eyes  left  Theo's  face.  "  I  met  the  wagon  at 
Salton,  joined  you  there.  I  had  been  traveling  for  a 
long  time.  You  were  so  little,  you  probably  can  not 
remember  me  before  that  trip." 

"  No,  probably  not."     There  was  a  pause. 

"  Was  it  your  idea  putting  me  in  the  convent?  " 
'  Yes.  You  see,  mother  died  suddenly.  She  had 
no  chance  to  tell  me  what  she  wanted  done  with  you. 
Only  she  had  charged  me  to  take  good  care  of  you. 
After  I  buried  them  out  there  in  the  alkali,  you  and  I 
came  on  by  ourselves.  That  burial  was  terrible.  I 
have  never  told  you  anything  about  it.  Would  you 
care  to  hear — could  you  bear  to  hear?  "  he  asked. 

Theodora  nodded,  looking  at  him  with  wide  open, 
serious  eyes.  A  certain  pallor  had  overspread  Jarvis' 
face.  All  in  a  moment  the  entire  scene  was  recalled  to 
his  mind  with  intense  vividness;  the  illimitable  waste, 
the  cloudless  sky,  the  shimmering,  vibrating  earth 
throwing  off  heat  waves  from  its  oven-parched  sur- 
face; and  in  the  midst  of  this  desolation  that  one  nar- 
row, shallow  grave  holding  the  body  of  the  woman  who 
had  been  such  an  influence  for  good  in  his  life,  and 
the  body  of  the  man  whom  she  had  loved  with  such 
devotion. 

"  Sometimes  it  appals  me  to  remember  that  she  is 


148  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

lying  out  there,"  he  said  at  last,  in  a  half  apology  for 
his  long  pause.  "  She  was  never  in  tune  with  the 
desert.  She  was  half  afraid  of  it,  as  though  some  un- 
named sense  had  forewarned  her  of  what  would  hap- 
pen there.  But  there  was  no  other  way.  I  had  to 
leave  her."  Jarvis'  voice  was  husky  as  he  continued. 

"  After  the  first  shock  of  finding  her  dead,  I  deter- 
mined to  hurry  the  horses  on,  to  do  all  in  my  power 
to  carry  both  bodies  where  the  earth  was  green  and  the 
air  cool  and  the  flowers  she  loved  could  bloom.  I 
lifted  them  both  into  the  wagon  and  covered  them  as 
best  I  could,  the  sight  of  her  closed  eyes,  and  still,  white 
face  haunting  me  with  an  appeal  to  take  her  away 
from  this  death-breeding  spot.  Early  in  the  morning 
I  harnessed  the  horses  and  we  started.  How  hideous 
that  desert  looked  to  me,  stretching  away  on  every 
side,  league  after  league  of  alkali,  cooked  into  a  white 
heat  by  centuries  of  baking !  All  I  could  think  of  was 
some  repulsive,  malignant  monster  gloating  over  our 
misery.  You  were  begging  and  crying  for  mother.  I 
tried  to  tell  you  she  had  gone  away  from  the  desert,  up 
to  Heaven  to  live  with  God  and  His  angels.  But  you 
pointed  to  those  figures  outlined  under  the  thin  covers 
and  demanded  to  go  to  her. 

"  By  night  you  were  exhausted  and  so  was  I.  The 
horses  were  nearly  collapsed;  I  had  driven  them  too 
hard,  and  I  had  no  means  of  knowing  how  many  days 
might  elapse  before  we  would  reach  a  civilized  place 
I  altered  my  decision.  They  would  have  to  find  a 
resting-place  in  that  interminable  valley  of  death. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  149 

"  I  waited  until  you  were  asleep.  Then  with  my 
hands  I  dug  a  grave — just  one,  and  put  them  in  it  side 
by  side.  It  was  shallow  enough,  Heaven  knows,  but 
it  took  me  all  the  night  long  to  make  it.  It  was  dread- 
ful, dreadful." 

Jarvis  stopped  short.  Theo  went  to  him,  standing 
back  of  his  chair,  smoothing  his  head. 

"  For  two  days  we  drove  and  drove  in  that  desert. 
All  the  time  I  wondered  where  we  ought  to  go,  what 
we  ought  to  do.  At  the  first  stop  we  made  I  heard  of 
the  convent,  this  convent  called  The  Holy  Mother.  The 
name  decided  me.  I  brought  you  here.  It  was  a  for- 
tunate move,  a  lucky  decision  all  around.  You  were 
happy  there,  dear,  weren't  you  ?  " 

"  Very." 

"  And  the  property  that  I  bought  with  the  only 
money  we  had  has  proved  our  making." 

"  It's  almost  like  a  romance.  You  don't  mind  my 
having  asked  about  it,  Bud,  do  you?  " 

"  No,  Theo.  I  am  always  glad  to  think  and  talk  of 
your  mother." 

"  Our  mother,  dear." 

"  Our  blessed  mother." 

A  silence  ensued.  Presently  Jarvis  said,  "  Theo,  I 
am  going  to  ask  something  now  that  I  don't  want  you 
to  mind — may  I  ?  " 

"  You  know,  Bud." 

Ever  since  Callister  had  set  the  possibility  of  Theo's 
attachment  for  some  man  within  reach  as  an  ever- 


150  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

present  reality,  Jarvis'  mind  had  been  face  to  face  with 
the  question.  He  could  think  of  little  else.  He  was 
distinctly  uneasy.  The  consideration  of  having  her 
suddenly  announce  some  such  an  attachment  was  not  to 
be  borne.  While  her  future  happiness  must  be  his 
greatest  desire,  his  chief  thought,  he  believed  he  pos- 
sessed the  right  to  ask  her  confidence.  But  it  was  hard 
to  begin. 

:t  You  are  very  dear  to  me,  perhaps  you  don't  know 
just  how  dear,"  he  said,  finally.  "  You  see,  it's  more 
than  just  a  brother's  love.  You  are  so  much  younger 
than  I,  that  somehow  I  feel  a  kind  of  responsibility 
for  you." 

"  Of  course,  Bud."    Theo  nodded. 

"  Now,  I  want  you  to  promise  me  something.  You 
are  young,  but  it  would  not  be  unnatural  if  almost  any 
day  you  met  someone  who  might  appeal  to  your  fancy. 
It's  very  likely  to  happen — I  understand  that.  But 
Theo,  when  that  time  comes  let  me  know.  Give  me 
the  right  to  judge  of  your  choice  before  it  has  gone  too 
far.  I  shall  be  fair.  No  matter  what  my  personal 
feeling  is,  I  shall  be  just  and  fair." 

"  Bud  Jarvis !  "  Theo  placed  herself  in  front  of 
the  man,  fixing  him  with  a  look  of  reproach.  "  How 
can  you  talk  like  that  ?  But,  of  course,  you  can't  know 
that  marriage  is  something  that  I  have  dreaded,  some- 
thing I  have  wanted  to  keep  in  the  background  for  us 
both.  I  am  so  happy  here  with  you.  Unless  I  am  a 
failure  and  can  not  make  you  happy,  there  is  small 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  151 

danger  of  any  change.  Why,  I  would  rather  have  you 
than  any  man  that  walks  the  earth." 

"  Do  you  mean  that,  Theo  ?  "  He  could  think  of 
nothing  else  to  say.  His  heart  beat  to  suffocation, 
words  trembling  on  his  lips  that  he  dared  not  let  fall. 
Perhaps  all  his  uneasiness  had  been  uncalled  for. 

"  With  all  my  soul.  But,  mercy,  what  a  couple  of 
sentimental  things  we  are!  From  all  I've  ever  heard, 
we  aren't  a  bit  like  brother  and  sister.  Now  let's  read 
again." 

She  went  back  to  her  work.  Jarvis  picked  up  the 
book. 

Meanwhile  over  in  his  laboratory  Callister  was  at 
work.  From  each  battery  came  an  incessant  outburst 
of  blue  sparks.  The  blinding  light  from  the  thick  cyl- 
inders of  carbon  sputtered  and  glowed,  a  burning,  con- 
suming fire,  tempting  with  its  beauty,  reeking  destruc- 
tion on  the  one  who  yielded. 

In  the  middle  of  the  room  was  a  huge  table  covered 
with  apparatus.  Extending  from  one  end  of  the  labo- 
ratory to  the  other  were  coils  of  wire,  yards  upon  yards 
of  cables,  carried  even  across  the  ceiling  in  a  very  net- 
work of  complication,  transmitting  the  power  from  the 
batteries  to  the  ovens  and  apparatus  for  experiments.  A 
distant  corner  was  set  aside  for  operations  in  chemistry. 
It  was  a  place  fraught  with  dangers,  one  misstep  enough 
to  cause  serious,  perhaps  fatal,  results.  Yet  Callister 
moved  about,  seeming  careless  of  where  he  went,  what 
he  did.  He  was  at  home  here,  perfectly  happy,  proud 


152  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

of  the  understanding  that  existed  between  his  machines 
and  himself.  He  gloried  in  the  researches,  the  mar- 
vels that  lay  within  his  grasp.  With  labor  and  faith 
he  might  yet  make  himself  invincible,  rearing  to  his 
memory  a  monument  time  itself  could  not  efface. 

"  You  hold  life  and  death  here  in  your  grasp,"  he 
cried  to  his  furnaces.  "  The  very  possibilities  of  re- 
creation if  I  can  but  wrest  the  knowledge  from  you, 
you  glorious  thing." 

The  night  was  dark,  with  black  storm-clouds  ob- 
scuring the  sky.  Not  a  glimmer  of  light  was  to  be  seen 
anywhere.  The  moon  had  set.  The  stars  were  shut 
out  from  vision.  In  the  distance  Flaremont  lay  like  a 
city  of  the  tombs,  the  inhabitants  inert  with  sleep,  the 
image  of  death.  It  seemed  as  though  all  the  world  had 
gone  to  rest,  leaving  Callister  alone  to  keep  watch. 

The  glare  of  the  sputtering  lights,  flaring  like  a 
contagion,  fell  upon  him.  It  was  magnificent  to  see 
him  work.  His  dark  hair  curling  from  his  forehead 
damp  with  sweat,  his  face  showing  fine,  white,  the 
face  of  a  dreamer,  his  eyes  shining  with  exaltation. 
A  countenance  delicate  with  refinement,  a  reflector  of 
the  thoughts  and  inspirations  of  a  pure  mind.  Only 
in  the  laboratory,  working  in  the  midst  of  that  huge 
room  of  terrors,  could  one  judge  of  his  immense 
strength.  His  bared  arms,  with  muscles  like  whip- 
cord, hard,  standing  out  beneath  the  skin;  his  neck 
round,  firm,  white,  swelling  with  power,  might  well 
have  been  sculptured  for  some  great  statue  of  a  god. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  153 

At  every  move  he  was  illuminated  by  the  gigantic 
force  that  he  had  set  out  to  conquer.  It  set  a  veritable 
halo  about  him.  He  was  very  deliberate,  easy  even, 
never  hurried,  never  flustered.  Once  in  crossing  the 
room  with  a  charged  wire  in  his  hand  he  stooped  to 
stroke  his  dog.  The  animal  was  not  beautiful,  but 
possessed  what  appealed  more  to  Callister,  strong  in- 
stincts of  guardianship  and  great  devotion.  Then  the 
man  straightened  up.  He  walked  on  to  the  front  of 
the  furnace,  kneeling  to  peer  in  at  the  white  heat,  not 
noticing  that  the  dog  had  risen  to  follow  him. 

The  creature  came  on  deliberately,  its  head  down, 
sniffing  with  great  interest  at  the  floor.  Intent  on  a 
crucible  and  still  without  turning,  Callister  laid  aside 
the  wire.  It  was  highly  charged,  twisting  and  sputter- 
ing like  a  thing  of  life.  The  dog  paused  in  his  walk. 
His  tail  rose  and  stiffened.  At  every  moment  his  in- 
dignation increased  at  the  taunts  of  that  snapping  en- 
emy. He  watched  each  movement,  his  fangs  beginning 
to  show.  Gradually  the  animal  drew  nearer,  halted 
abruptly,  irritated  to  the  last  degree,  his  fore  feet 
planted  rigidly  for  the  first  attack. 

Callister  turned  at  the  sound  of  a  thud.  He  found 
the  dog  already  rigid  in  death,  with  the  wire  close  to 
its  body.  In  a  moment  he  had  taken  the  creature  in 
his  arms,  fondling  and  rubbing  it. 

The  great  silence  of  the  plains  hung  heavy  in  the 
air.  The  night,  empty  and  dark,  was  yet  full  of  inspira- 
tion to  the  man.  Under  its  influence  he  speedily  for- 


154  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

got  all  else  but  the  one  desire  that,  apparently  born 
of  the  occasion,  had  come  to  him.  It  steeped  his 
thoughts  and  gripped  his  will  by  its  very  immensity. 
Would  he  dare?  Had  he  the  right?  Was  his  faith 
sufficient  to  the  test?  He  spoke  no  word,  made  no 
gesture,  but  the  turmoil  that  had  awakened  in  him  was 
not  to  be  put  aside.  His  eyes  flamed.  Finally  he  cried 
aloud,  "Why  not?  I  have  always  wanted  to  try  it. 
The  first  great  struggle  must  be  made  some  time.  I 
have  four  hours  before  daylight.  If  I  fail  no  one  will 
be  the  wiser.  If  I  succeed — God " 

Now  for  the  first  time  he  hurried.  There  was  no 
mistaking  his  excitement.  Taking  the  dog  over  to  the 
corner  devoted  to  chemistry,  the  man  began  mixing 
certain  fluids.  The  truth  was,  he  was  preparing  to 
follow  a  voiceless  cry  that  had  sounded  in  his  ears  for 
years.  He  would  put  to  trial  his  repeated  assertions 
that  life  lay  in  electricity.  To  kill  was  child's  play,  but  to 
revive,  to  make  live,  to  so  combine  fluids  and  forces  and 
wits,  that  the  impossible  would  be  conquered ;  that  na- 
ture itself  would  bend  to  his  will,  defying  its  own  laws, 
— ah,  that  would  be  the  glorification  of  his  labor !  It 
was  as  if  some  spirit  had  inspired  him,  opening  to  him 
the  door  that  until  now  had  been  locked,  obscured. 

Like  a  priest  at  some  ancient  rites  he  worked.  His 
hands  flew.  He  had  laid  the  dog  on  a  table.  Into  its 
veins  he  injected  at  intervals  certain  salt  solutions. 
Reducing  the  number  of  volts  in  one  of  the  batteries, 
he  applied  electricity  to  the  stilled  heart,  endeavoring  to 
stimulate  its  action,  determined  to  make  it  beat. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  155 

Over  and  over  again  he  repeated  the  process.  His 
countenance  glowed  with  intense  absorption,  taking  on 
a  half-inspired  expression;  his  body  seemed  endowed 
with  the  energy  of  an  indomitable  will,  hesitating  at 
nothing.  He  forgot  time,  forgot  labor,  forgot  discour- 
agements, forgot  even  the  gravity  of.  the  responsibility 
he  assumed,  in  that  which  he  sought  to  do. 

The  hours  passed.  Patiently  he  waited.  A  faint 
streak  of  dawn  broke  through  the  eastern  windows, 
dimming  the  brilliancy  of  the  furnaces  that  burned  and 
sputtered,  like  miniature  volcanoes.  The  serene  calm 
of  the  country,  infinite,  majestic,  was  undisturbed. 
Nothing  broke  the  utter  stillness.  It  was  the  hour  for 
awakenings. 

Callister,  who  was  standing  upright,  one  hand 
pressed  over  the  dog's  heart,  felt  an  abrupt  tremor.  Al- 
though he  had  waited  hours  for  this  very  thing  to  hap- 
pen, until  now  no  single  sign  had  occurred  that  could  be 
reduced  to  a  perceptible  actuality.  But  now  it  had 
come;  something  in  answer  to  his  call;  a  motion, 
scarcely  more  than  a  thrill,  the  very  first  stir  in  that 
inert  body. 

An  inarticulate  sound  came  from  Callister's  throat. 
He  stood  rigid  in  his  place  while  the  blood  ran  riot 
through  his  veins.  He  put  forward  all  his  strength. 
The  minutes  passed.  Slowly  the  motion  expanded  to 
a  quick  twitching  of  the  creature's  legs.  The  powerful 
stimulants  were  doing  their  work.  All  at  once  the 
dog's  heart  gave  a  bound,  then  died  away  to  a  flutter, 


156  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

faint,  elusive,  hardly  definable,  but  none  the  less  cer- 
tain. The  answer  was  growing  surer. 

On  fire  with  a  torrent  of  suppressed  emotions,  his 
lips  parched,  his  throat  dry,  Callister  could  hardly 
trust  his  senses.  His  hands  grew  unsteady.  The  temp- 
tation came  to  him  to  stop  his  work,  to  go  on  no  fur- 
ther. But  the  revivification  was  not  to  be  stopped.  A 
series  of  quiverings,  undulatings,  distinct  evidences  of 
life,  revealed  to  Callister  that  every  organ  in  the  crea- 
ture was  fast  resuming  its  normal  function. 

The  cold  sweat  poured  off  Callister's  face.  He 
hardly  dared  breathe.  He  threw  aside  the  wire,  giving 
a  final  injection  of  salt  fluid,  chafing  the  dog's  body, 
warming  it  with  his  hands  that  burned  like  red-hot 
coals.  With  a  regular  mechanical  movement,  the 
heart  throbbed.  Abruptly  the  eyes  opened.  At  the 
same  moment  a  faint,  pitiful  cry  issued  from  the  ani- 
mal's mouth.  It  was  the  signal  of  a  battle  won — the 
jaws  of  death  unloosed  at  a  man's  command. 

Callister,  scarcely  knowing  what  he  was  about,  lay 
the  dog  down,  well  wrapped  in  a  blanket.  The  mystery 
of  beholding  face  to  face  this  full  answer  to  his  efforts 
was  too  much  for  him.  Suddenly  he  collapsed.  He 
flung  himself  down  in  a  chair,  covering  his  face,  fear- 
fully unnerved.  His  whole  appearance  was  that  of 
exhaustion.  His  face  was  ashen  white.  He  had  no 
control  over  his  limbs  that  shook  and  jerked.  At  times 
he  was  seized  with  unreasoning  joy  over  his  achieve- 
ment; again  he  trembled.  The  paean  to  his  faith  was 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  157 

sung,  but  the  shock  was  tremendous.  Tears  came  to 
his  eyes,  rolled  down  his  face.  He  paced  the  floor, 
his  thoughts  clamoring  with  the  wonder  of  what  he 
had  accomplished,  yet  with  strange  inconsistency  vow- 
ing that  never,  never  should  the  experiment  be  repeated. 
It  was  all  out  of  variance  with  right.  It  bordered 
closely  on  blasphemy.  He  had  been  tempted  and  the 
temptation  had  proved  too  strong;  but  hereafter  when 
he  was  tried,  Callister  assured  himself  that  he  should 
not  be  found  wanting. 


358  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 


CHAPTER  XL 

The  refinery  was  finished.  Everything  was  in  place. 
A  crowd  of  men  and  boys  surrounded  the  building, 
commenting,  praising,  peering  about  everywhere.  The 
men  of  the  Company  had  arrived  the  first  thing  in  the 
morning.  Lawler  and  Hale  had  arrayed  themselves 
as  for  a  grand  occasion.  Viewed  from  the  back  they 
could  not  be  told  apart.  Mistakes  were  constantly  be- 
ing made  by  new-comers.  Each  had  bought  for  himself 
a  frock  coat,  a  white  waistcoat,  and  a  pair  of  checked 
trousers.  On  their  feet  they  wore  patent  leather  shoes, 
very  new,  very  shiny,  very  hard  to  walk  in.  But  the 
old  slouch  hats  were  not  to  be  discarded,  even  at  this 
festivity. 

They  were  everywhere,  these  two,  welcoming  new  ar- 
rivals, greeting  people  again  and  again,  forgetting 
whom  they  had  seen,  going  over  and  over  the  same 
proceeding  with  the  same  people. 

A  huge  barrel  of  beer  had  been  rolled  into  the  fur- 
nace-room of  the  refinery.  There  the  men  gathered, 
drinking  everybody's  health,  wishing  the  Company 
good  luck.  The  furnace-room  became  so  crowded  that 
some  of  the  visitors  were  obliged  to  wait  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  before  they  had  a  chance  of  getting  a  drink. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  159 

There  was  a  great  deal  of  talking,  an  air  of  gaiety  be- 
ginning to  make  itself  felt.  It  seemed  as  though  Hale's 
pockets  never  would  empty  themselves  of  cigars.  It 
became  a  great  joke.  He  was  referred  to  constantly 
as  the  necromancer.  Whenever  a  fellow  wanted  to 
smoke,  a  dozen  fellows  yelled  at  Hale : 

"  Now,  then,  bring  'em  out." 

Instantly  he  made  a  great  pretense  of  producing 
them  from  his  ears,  his  mouth,  the  top  of  his  head, 
winking  ponderously  at  the  appearance  of  each  weed. 

Meanwhile,  at  every  moment  the  crowds  increased. 
The  news  had  gone  to  Flaremont  that  there,  was  a  kind 
of  house-warming  at  the  refinery.  By  afternoon  there 
was  a  regular  invasion.  Some  of  the  women  began 
driving  out  with  their  husbands,  huddling  about  the 
doorways,  very  self-conscious,  very  embarrassed,  half 
wishing  they  had  not  come. 

Theo,  very  pretty,  very  sweet  in  pink  and  white, 
went  out  to  them.  They  were  nearly  all  strangers  to 
her,  but  they  had  come  to  see  the  refinery,  to  bring  good 
wishes  to  Jarvis.  It  was  quite  enough ;  she  would  see 
they  were  made  to  feel  at  home.  She  passed  among 
them,  inviting  them  to  come  to  the  house,  suggesting 
a  cup  of  tea.  It  was  pleasanter  on  the  veranda.  Be- 
sides, it  was  hard  work  to  stand,  and  up  there  one 
could  sit  down.  Half  an  hour  later  the  women  forgot 
their  timidity,  very  much  at  their  ease  under  Theo's 
graciousness.  They  drank  cup  after  cup  of  tea,  and 
ate  piles  of  little  wafers.  A  babel  of  voices  rose. 


160  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

There  was  a  rustle  of  starched  skirts,  almost  like  the 
sound  of  a  passing  wind,  the  note  of  laughter,  the  sud- 
den hush  of  conversation,  when  some  new-comer  put 
in  an  appearance,  whispered  comments  after  Theo  had 
spoken  a  welcome. 

The  Chinaman  came  and  went,  balancing  his  tray, 
handing  cups,  passing  cakes,  seeing  that  everyone  was 
well  served. 

About  five  in  the  afternoon  there  was  a  commotion. 
Orton  and  Gabrielle  galloped  up  to  the  house.  Their 
arrival  made  quite  a  stir.  The  women  stared  and  ex- 
changed glances  with  their  neighbors.  Orton  was 
known  to  every  one  of  them,  at  least  by  sight.  And 
it  was  marvelous,  the  way  in  which,  without  the  least 
apparent  effort,  he  had  won  the  women  of  Flaremont  to 
his  side.  While  the  men  adored  Gabrielle,  their  wives 
and  sisters  never  tired  of  talking  of  the  young  man. 
Every  day  since  his  arrival  he  had  made  new  con- 
quests. He  was  irresistible  to  elderly  ladies,  showing 
his  gallantry  in  a  thousand  different  ways,  each  one 
equally  fascinating.  He  had  not  been  in  town  a 
month  before  half  the  young  girls  were  madly  jeal- 
ous of  Gabrielle  and  quite  ready  to  take  up  the  cudgel 
with  any  man  who  ridiculed  Orton's  manners. 

The  way  he  had  won  his  place  at  the  Masons'  was 
masterly.  Before  he  proclaimed  himself  as  a  suitor 
for  Gabrielle's  hand,  he  had  become  indispensable  to 
her  mother.  He  gave  excellent  advice  on  any  sub- 
ject, from  the  running  of  an  oil-well  to  the  cooking  of 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  161 

an  omelet.  He  was  always  very  cheery,  ready  to 
talk  and  laugh,  and  his  stories  were  inimitable.  He 
sang  in  a  light  tenor  voice,  of  exquisite  quality,  play- 
ing his  own  accompaniments  exceedingly  well.  He 
was  as  charming  with  women  as  he  was  completely  out 
of  his  element  with  men. 

He  took  life  easily,  rising  at  ten  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing, eating  a  light  breakfast  of  rolls,  coffee  and  a  soft- 
boiled  egg,  then,  carefully  dressed,  he  strolled  about  in 
the  sunshine,  his  hands  in  his  pockets. 

At  first  his  visits  to  the  Masons'  were  not  too  fre- 
quent, taking  place  in  the  evening,  amounting  to  hardly 
more  than  a  formal  call.  He  always  arrived  in  a  full 
dress  suit,  his  appearance  worthy  of  the  son  of  a  duke. 
Little  by  little  as  he  felt  his  presence  welcome  to  both 
ladies,  these  visits  multiplied.  He  called  every  other 
evening.  On  the  alternate  days  he  rode  about  the 
country  with  Gabrielle,  purchasing  a  saddle-horse  bet- 
ter suited  to  his  fancy  than  the  one  he  had  first  ridden 
into  Flaremont. 

When  at  last  an  engagement  finally  resulted  between 
the  couple,  no  one  could  have  been  more  delighted  than 
the  mother.  It  seemed  as  though  they  had  known  him 
always ;  the  two  even  asked  themselves  how  they  had 
ever  gotten  on  without  him.  Randolph  alone  remained 
gloomy.  He  did  not  like  Orton,  and  frankly  ques- 
tioned the  sense  of  taking  in  a  man  of  whom  they  knew 
absolutely  nothing.  He,  with  the  other  men  of  Flare- 
mont, had  not  been  attracted  by  this  elegant  stranger. 


162  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

The  truth  was,  no  one  could  get  much  out  of  Orton. 
He  was  very  talkative  and  very  curious  on  the  subject 
of  other  people,  but  when  it  was  a  question  of  himself, 
he  held  his  tongue.  However,  all  the  signs  pointed  to 
his  being  a  gentleman  possessed  of  ample  fortune.  He 
never  borrowed,  never  ran  into  debt,  and  he  occupied 
the  two  best  rooms  in  the  hotel,  furnishing  one  as  a 
parlor. 

To-day  he  was  in  a  wonderful  riding  suit;  short 
jacket,  tights,  high  boots.  His  dark,  rather  foreign- 
looking  face,  was  undeniably  handsome. 

He  met  Theo  with  his  usual  gallantry  of  manner 
that  made  an  instant  impression.  Abruptly  the  general 
feeling  made  itself  evident  that  Orton  was  too  good 
for  the  girl  he  was  courting.  Gabrielle  was  as  little 
liked  by  women  as  Orton  was  favored  by  men.  Ac- 
cording to  the  feminine  element  of  Flaremont,  she  was 
being  precious  badly  brought  up.  While  Mrs.  Mason 
slaved  and  Randolph  worked  himself  thin,  Gabrielle 
was  petted  and  pampered,  denied  nothing,  worshiped 
for  her  marvelous  beauty.  She  gave  herself  great 
airs.  She  was  tremendously  proud  of  being  a  South- 
erner, and  talked  interminably  of  the  slaves  her  grand- 
father had  owned,  of  the  vast  estates  the  Masons  pos- 
sessed until  the  war  bereft  them  of  everything.  She 
made  a  point  of  declaiming  against  the  North.  The 
Northern  people  were  coarse,  common,  not  to  be  as- 
sociated with.  She  was  thankful  her  lot  had  not  been 
cast  in  with  the  nigger-protectors.  She  had  a  mania 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  163 

for  talking  against  the  negroes.  The  first  time  Orton 
had  listened  to  her  tirade,  he  drew  himself  up  stiffly 
and  said  nothing.  His  eyes  fixed  themselves  with  a 
terrible  expression  on  the  beautiful  face  before  him, 
perfect  as  a  master's  portrait  of  a  Madonna. 

But  afterwards  he  always  smiled.  Even  when  she 
was  doing  the  grand,  he  accepted  her  airs  and  graces, 
meeting  them  with  so  much  courtliness  of  manner  that 
she  was  satisfied  to  vanity  with  the  man  she  had  chosen. 

For  hours  of  every  day  Gabrielle  shifted  in  front  of 
her  mirror,  rigging  herself  out;  and  once  her  toilet 
completed,  she  was  adorable;  white,  dainty,  her  face 
haloed  under  her  heavy  fleece  of  golden  hair,  exhaling 
the  perfume  of  youth,  the  freshness  of  a  nosegay. 

When  she  laughed  she  threw  back  her  head,  show- 
ing the  fleshy  part  of  her  neck,  snowy  white,  bewitch- 
ingly  lovely.  It  was  a  trick  of  manner,  studied  before 
her  glass, — one  of  fifty  affectations  carefully  worked 
out,  but  as  beautiful  to  watch  as  the  waving  of  a  flower 
tossed  by  the  wind. 

Everything  she  did  appealed  to  men.  The  women 
disliked  her,  seeing  beneath  the  perfect  exterior,  find- 
ing nothing  to  admire.  She  returned  dislike  for  dis- 
like, cordially  hating  all  womankind. 

Orton  lifted  Gabrielle  off  her  horse.  It  took  per- 
haps a  second  longer  than  actual  necessity  demanded. 
The  girl  smiled  at  Theo,  then  seeing  the  crowd  on  the 
veranda,  she  could  not  be  persuaded  to  go  up. 

"  We  came  for  only  a  minute,  dear  Miss  Jarvis. 


164  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

Randolph  begged  it  of  us.  He's  so  enthusiastic  over 
the  refinery.  But  I'll  sit  here  on  the  steps  just  a  mo- 
ment to  rest  if  you  don't  mind.  Mr.  Orton,  will  you 
find  Randolph  ?  I  want  to  see  him.  I  want  to  convince 
him  that  I  am  really  here." 

Instantly  Orton  took  his  leave,  lifting  his  hat  so 
as  to  include  all  the  ladies  present.  A  buzz  of  conver- 
sation broke  out.  The  women  were  busy  with  their 
own  affairs.  Theo  brought  some  tea  down  to  where 
Gabrielle  had  seated  herself. 

"  Thank  you  so  much.  Really,  I  am  sorry  to  be  such 
a  trouble.  I  am  so  glad  to  meet  you,  Miss  Jarvis. 
Randolph  talks  of  you  all  the  time.  He  thinks  you  are 
the  most  perfect  being  in  the  world." 

Theo  listened  gravely.  Her  face  did  not  change 
color.  "  It  is  kind  of  Mr.  Mason.  We  are  always  so 
glad  to  have  him  here  with  us.  My  brother  is  fond  of 
him.  Friends  of  his  are  always  friends  of  mine." 

"  Poor  Ran,"  laughed  Gabrielle,  sipping  her  tea, 
"  there's  no  hope  for  him,  is  there  ?  " 

A  look  of  uneasiness  crept  into  Theo's  great  eyes. 
"  I  am  afraid  I  do  not  understand,"  she  replied,  be- 
wildered. 

"  Probably  some  day  he'll  explain,"  Gabrielle  re- 
marked. Her  air  had  suddenly  become  languid.  She 
was  tremendously  bored. 

All  at  once  the  men  came  up — Jarvis,  young  Mason, 
Orton  and  Callister.  Instantly  Gabrielle  began  to  talk 
very  fast,  her  eyes  kindling.  She  moved  continuously 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  165 

to  show  her  figure.  Her  caressing  voice  fell  on  Cal- 
lister's  ears,  making  him  infinitely  sad.  She  flirted 
with  him  outrageously,  but  the  man  could  see  nothing 
of  coquetry  about  this  exquisite  woman.  It  was  sim- 
ply her  way  to  be  kind  to  everyone.  He  was  so  far 
above  the  pettinesses  of  life  that  they  never  reached 
him.  It  never  occurred  to  him  that  so  perfect  a  crea- 
tion of  the  Almighty  could  be  possessed  of  unfathom- 
able duplicity. 

She  had  been  the  undercurrent  of  his  thoughts 
through  so  many  months  that  it  seemed  strange  now  to 
resign  her  to  another.  Yet  he  could  see- plainly  how 
matters  stood  between  Gabrielle  and  Orton. 

Jarvis  had  gone  directly  onto  the  veranda,  speak- 
ing to  Theo's  guests,  shaking  hands  with  the  few  he 
knew.  But  it  was  growing  late.  These  greetings  were 
but  the  preludes  to  good-bys.  The  homeward  move- 
ment began.  Husbands  drove  up  to  the  steps  for  their 
wives,  the  rattle  of  wheels  grated  sharply  as  one  ve- 
hicle after  another  rolled  out  on  the  roadway,  until  all 
the  visitors  had  taken  their  departure  except  the  little 
group  on  the  steps. 

Gabrielle  was  still  keeping  up  an  interminable  chat- 
ter. Finally  she  arose.  She  turned  to  Orton,  an  ador- 
able smile  on  her  lips.  "  I  am  going  to  tell  our  secret, 
Archie,"  she  murmured. 

With  the  gallantry  that  sat  so  well  on  him,  Orton 
bent  and  kissed  her  hand.  He  was  all  affability,  effac- 
ing himself,  putting  her  in  the  foreground,  assuming 
by  his  pose  a  magnificent  self-depreciation. 


166  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

She  looked  about  her,  holding  the  attention  of  the 
little  gathering,  waiting  for  the  fraction  of  a  second, 
conscious  of  a  certain  dramatic  effect. 

"  It  is  my  happiness  to  tell  you  that  I — that  we — 
Mr.  Orton  and  I  are  engaged."  There  was  just  an 
evidence  of  embarrassment  in  her  voice.  It  was  very 
effective. 

Immediately  they  all  surged  forward.  Hands  were 
outstretched.  There  was  a  perfect  tempest  of  congrat- 
ulations and  good  wishes,  everyone  talking  at  once. 
When  finally  the  couple  mounted  their  horses,  riding 
away,  sounds  of  good- will  followed  them.  It  was  a 
fitting  climax  to  an  exciting  day, — an  astonishing  day, 
when  Flaremont  had  come  to  give  its  sanction  to  a  new 
industry  just  opened. 

At  the  doorway,  Jarvis  urged  Callister  to  remain, 
but,  making  an  excuse,  the  electrician  hurried  away, 
anxious  to  be  alone.  The  news  had  not  been  a  surprise, 
but  in  spite  of  that,  the  announcement  of  an  actual  en- 
gagement had  upset  him  terribly. 

He  strode  towards  his  house,  seeing  always  before 
him  Gabrielle's  face  as  last  he  had  seen  it,  remembering 
suddenly  all  the  many  things  about  her  that  held  him 
fascinated — her  daintiness,  her  femininity,  her  strange 
little  gestures,  her  marvelous  beauty,  resplendent  as 
the  sun ;  above  all,  the  sweet  odor  emanating  from  her 
clothes,  charming,  delicious,  the  fragrance  of  her 
youth,  the  perfume  of  flowers. 

The  sun  was  setting  behind  the  hills,  a  brilliant,  rosy 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  167 

light,  which  gradually  became  paler,  changing  into  a 
delicate  lilac.  The  air  had  chilled.  Callister  quickened 
his.  pace.  Ahead  the  laboratory  loomed  before  him, 
the  haven  of  rest,  the  place  of  forgetfulness  and  of 
achievement. 

For  a  week  the  man  had  avoided  that  great  room, 
hardly  daring  to  think  of  what  had  taken  place  in  it. 
When  the  excitement  had  worn  away  and  his  mind 
relaxed,  and  he  had  viewed  the  experiment  under 
the  light  of  day,  it  had  assumed  proportions  too  stu- 
pendous, bordering  too  closely  on  a  miracle.  He  was 
beset  with  doubts.  Had  the  animal  been  entirely 
dead?  Was  it  not  rather  suspended  animation,  a 
species  of  epilepsy?  Had  not  he  himself  been  deceived, 
his  imagination  worked  upon,  his  mind  overwrought? 

A  kind  of  fear  born  of  awe  seized  Callister.  He  be- 
gan to  wish  that  he  had  been  mistaken  in  what  he  had 
seemed  to  accomplish.  He  put  off  a  second  experi- 
ment of  the  same  kind,  dreading  the  outcome.  Of  a 
deeply  religious  temperament,  the  more  he  thought  of 
that  revivification,  the  more  blasphemous  it  became  to 
him. 

What  right  had  he,  a  creature  of  God's,  to  tamper 
with  God's  greatest  creation,  peering  into  the  secret 
mysteries  of  life  and  death,  handling  with  profane 
hands  tasks  compatible  only  with  divinity? 

Slowly  he  ascended  the  hill,  watching  the  night  ap- 
proach. He  was  weary,  utterly  weary.  His  heart 
ached.  His  eyes,  heavy  for  want  of  sleep,  closed  of 


168  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

themselves.  His  mind,  stupid  with  reaction,  had  the 
sensation  of  numbness.  He  was  lonely,  unhappy,  mor- 
bid. A  thousand  fancies  pictured  themselves  in  the 
dusk.  He  saw  Gabrielle's  face  haloed  under  the 
golden  mass  of  hair;  the  refinery  starting  at  last 
on  its  mission,  the  battle  that  would  leave  its  owners 
victorious  on  the  field  of  competition;  Jarvis,  his 
countenance  marked  by  lines  of  some  strange  sadness, 
erect,  active,  dominating  by  sheer  force  of  will  every 
obstacle  that  blocked  their  progress,  never  swerving 
from  the  line  of  duty  and  justice;  Orton,  with  his  pe- 
culiar foreign  beauty,  so  easy,  so  well-mannered,  un- 
touched by  responsibilities,  dressed  in  the  height  of 
fashion,  wearing  immaculate  linen  as  fine  as  silk,  mov- 
ing close  beside  Gabrielle  everywhere  she  went. 

His  lids  drooped  and  drooped.  His  shoulders  fell. 
His  head  dropped  forward  on  his  breast — Callister  was 
asleep. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  169 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Amid  all  the  jollification  over  the  completion  of  the 
refinery,  there  was  one  man  who  spent  the  day  in  a 
state  far  from  happy.  During  the  afternoon  Morton 
had  gone  about  sullen  with  anger,  benumbed  with  the 
sense  of  outrage.  What  a  farce  all  this  exchange  of 
good  wishes  was,  anyhow !  If  they  but  knew  what  he 
knew,  there  would  be  none  of  this  levity,  no  looking  for- 
ward to  the  dawning  of  the  next  day,  when  the  very  act 
of  setting  the  machinery  in  motion  would  be  the  signal 
for  the  Company's  ruin,  the  slaughter  of  their  hopes, 
the  plunge  into  poverty.  They  would  be  swallowed 
up  at  one  gulp  by  the  Eastern  men,  once  Wilmarth  sent 
the  word  that  these  Texans  meant  fight. 

He  could  see  himself  at  the  old  grind  again,  going 
hungry  and  cold  all  day  long,  sleeping  anywhere,  toil- 
ing at  anything.  And  that  outlook  was  always  accom- 
panied by  another  distinct  feature.  It  meant  the  old 
temptation  getting  the  better  of  him  again.  The  very 
atmosphere  of  poverty  made  him  run  foul  of  liquor. 
He  could  not  help  it.  He  had  to  drink  to  keep  warm, 
to  take  away  the  sting  of  a  gnawing  stomach,  to  give 
his  body  the  endurance  for  long  hours  and  nights 
passed  out  of  doors,  to  keep  up  his  courage.  Ah,  there 


170  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

were  a  thousand  excuses  for  drinking  when  poverty 
beset  one !  He  had  had  his  share  of  ill  luck.  It  was  piti- 
able that  it  should  come  to  him  now, — now  that  he 
had  passed  his  prime,  worked  out  his  young  strength, 
had  brought  himself  through  to  the  point  of  respecta- 
bility. 

The  longer  he  brooded,  the  worse  things  grew.  All 
day  long  Morton  stood  on  the  defensive.  He  tried  to 
appear  at  his  ease,  to  talk  and  laugh  and  listen  with  ab- 
solute naturalness,  but  it  ended  in  his  going  off  by 
himself,  muttering  an  excuse. 

He  was  needed  in  the  refinery ;  some  last  things  had 
suddenly  come  up  demanding  instant  care.  He  couldn't 
fool  and  josh  all  day. 

Every  second  he  was  afraid  Wilmarth  would  put  in 
an  appearance.  That  would  be  the  end.  Wilmarth 
once  on  the  grounds,  there  was  no  hope  left.  Then 
Morton  began  to  wonder  if  the  agent  had  approached 
any  one  of  the  other  men  besides  himself, — if  perhaps 
the  Company  was  not  already  sold  out.  The  very  idea 
threw  him  into  a  cold  perspiration.  He  wagged  his 
head  furiously,  stupid  with  apprehension.  Poverty 
stared  him  in  the  face.  Already  he  could  feel  its  cold 
breath  smiting  him. 

By  three  o'clock  Morton  had  worked  himself  into 
a  terrible  tempest.  He  could  no  longer  endure  the  un- 
certainty. He  would  seek  out  Wilmarth  and  find  out 
what  that  agent  fellow  had  meant  by  his  final  speech, 
what  the  way  was  out  of  this  impending  trouble, — the 
perfectly  safe  way. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  171 

Morton  sneaked  around  the  back  of  the  buildings, 
avoiding  everyone,  dodging,  gaining  the  main  road 
only  after  great  difficulties.  All  the  way  to  Flare- 
mont  he  was  recalling  his  forty  years  of  toil.  Forty 
years  more  of  such  work  would  leave  him  an  old  man, 
a  wretched,  helpless  creature,  dying  slowly  by  inches, 
penniless — always  penniless.  Nothing  but  misfor- 
tune surrounded  this  refinery  affair.  He  was  cor- 
nered, caught  like  a  rat  in  a  trap.  What  could  six 
men  with  a  handful  of  money  do  against  a  gigantic 
corporation,  a  trust  like  the  Eastern  Petroleum  Com- 
pany? He  should  never  have  let  himself  be  per- 
suaded into  such  a  situation. 

On  reaching  town,  Morton,  after  a  moment's  hesi- 
tation, went  into  a  saloon,  stepped  up  to  the  bar  and 
ordered  whisky,  which  he  drank  at  a  gulp.  It  was 
not  often  the  man  permitted  himself  to  drink.  Ten 
years  before,  he  had  been  a  frightful  drunkard,  giving 
way  to  his  craving  until  he  was  scarcely  ever  sober. 
More  than  that,  alcohol  made  a  brute  of  him.  He  had 
no  control  over  himself  at  all  when  he  took  a  glass 
above  the  limit.  On  such  occasions  he  was  liable  to  do 
anything,  to  make  a  veritable  fool  of  himself.  But 
this  business  of  money  was  turning  his  brain.  He 
needed,  deserved  some  stimulant  to  prepare  himself 
for  the  interview  with  the  agent. 

Wilmarth  was  not  at  the  hotel,  nor  at  the  Dew  Drop 
Inn,  where  in  a  kind  of  desperation  Morton  went  to 
look  for  him.  After  a  great  deal  of  walking  and 


172  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

hunting  and  questioning,  the  agent  was  located  at  the 
office  of  the  X.  &  Y.  Railroad  Company. 

He  was  very  complaisant.  He  welcomed  Morton 
with  exasperating  good  nature,  talking  at  length  of 
the  weather  and  the  crops  and  the  growth  of  Flare- 
mont.  Finally  he  suggested  their  having  a  little  visit 
in  his  friend  Eberlie's  office.  Eberlie  was  out.  They 
could  talk  there  undisturbed. 

Morton  followed  Wilmarth  into  the  private  room. 
It  was  a  little  place,  very  well  furnished  and  very  com- 
fortable. A  fire  burned  in  a  grate,  the  reflections 
causing  all  sorts  of  quaint  shadows  to  dance  on  the 
ceiling  above,  but  the  warmth  was  very  agreeable  and 
the  whole  effect  of  the  open  fire,  cozy  and  homelike. 

Once  seated  alone  in  the  office,  Wilmarth  became 
serious. 

"  You  have  not  shown  a  great  deal  of  curiosity,  my 
friend.  Twelve  hours  more  and  your  visit  would 
have  come  too  late." 

"  What  can  I  do  ?  I'm  pledged  to  them.  The 
Company's  got  my  money.  If  the  thing  is  a  failure 
I'm  out  every  cent  I  own.  What  can  I  do?  " 

There  was  no  pretense  between  these  two  men  now. 

"  I  told  you  there  was  a  way  out  of  it — for  you." 

"  Yes,  but  how  ?  How — that's  the  word.  I  can't 
see.  I've  studied  myself  sick  over  it." 

"  You  could  have  saved  yourself  any  worry  by  com- 
ing to  me." 

"  I  know,  but  somehow  I  felt  what  you  would  offer 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  173 

wouldn't  be  on  the  square  to  them,  and  I'm  pledged  to 
them.  They're  my  friends." 

Morton  could  think  of  no  arguments.  He  reiter- 
ated the  same  thing  over  and  over  again,  harping  on 
his  pledges,  his  friendships. 

"  I  went  out  with  them  in  good  faith ;  I've  got  to 
stay." 

'  You  are  not  considering  that  it  will  be  a  matter 
of  only  a  few  days  with  that  refinery  at  the  farthest. 
That  Company  will  either  have  to  sell  out  at  our  terms 
or  we  will  crush  them  out.  Your  faith  to  them  can't 
save  'em.  It  can't  even  help  'em,  and  any  way  you 
fix  it,  you'll  lose  what  you've  put  in.  It's  about  time 
you  ran  to  cover,  my  friend." 

"  Good  God,  haven't  you  any  mercy,  any  respect 
for  a  man's  rights  ?  "  Morton's  face  was  ashen. 

"  As  men — as  gentlemen — I  respect  every  one  of 
you.  I  am  even  sorry  for  you — as  individuals,  but  as 
for  the  Flaremont  Independent  Refiners  Company,  I 
shall  do  all  in  my  power  to  injure  or  destroy  it,  and  I 
shall  succeed." 

It  was  the  fiat  gone  forth,  the  open  declaration  of 
war,  the  sentence  of  the  taskmasters  over  the  people. 

Morton  passed  one  hand  restlessly  over  his  face. 
"  You  haven't  a  drink  handy,  have  you,  a  swallow  of 
whisky  ?  "  he  muttered. 

Wilmarth  produced  a  flask.  He  poured  out  a  drink, 
handing  it  silently  to  the  cowering  man  beside  him. 
Morton  was  shivering  in  spite  of  the  brisk  fire.  An- 


174  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

guish,  fatigue,  complete  discouragement  had  taken 
the  fight  out  of  him. 

"  If  I  leave  them  just  now  it  will  put  them  in  bad 
shape.  They  can't  run  without  an  expert,"  said 
Morton. 

"  They  will  have  to  pay  for  their  mistake.  But  I 
want  something  more  than  the  mere  fact  of  your  quit- 
ting them.  That  would  only  delay  their  beginning 
operations  until  they  could  import  another  one.  The 
refinery  must  be  injured,  the  machinery  tampered  with. 
The  plant  has  got  to  be  practically  wrecked.  They 
can't  rebuild — they  haven't  the  money.  It's  got  to  be 
smashed — blown  up." 

Wilmarth's  face  was  absolutely  unemotional,  as 
though  he  talked  of  common  affairs.  His  eyes  fixed 
Morton's,  coldly,  cruelly. 

"  I  don't  propose  to  make  myself  criminally  liable. 
By  the  Lord,  I  won't  do  this  thing.  Oh,  I  can't; 
God  knows  I  can't." 

"  Then  take  your  medicine  with  the  other  five." 

"  What  will  you  do — what  can  you  do?  " 

"  Go  on  as  you  have  begun,  and  we  will  commence 
by  entering  suits  against  the  Company.  Not  only  that, 
we  will  serve  an  injunction  on  you  and  stop  your  work. 
The  result?  When  these  suits  commence,  if  you  are 
in  it,  you  will  be  responsible ;  if  you  have  a  little  money 
left,  you  will  lose  it.  But  come  to  our  side,  do  as  I 
tell  you,  and  you  won't  run  any  risks  and  will  end  well 
financially.  There  will  be  placed  in  your  name  an  ac- 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  175 

count  in  an  Eastern  bank.  You  can  go  there  and  live 
under  our  protection  without  any  work  or  any  worry. 
Now,  Morton,  this  is  the  case  in  a  nutshell.  You  have 
got  to  decide  one  way  or  another  pretty  quick.  My 
time  is  limited.  I  have  given  you  more  of  it  than  I 
should  have  spared.  Think  it  over.  Let  me  know 
what  you'll  do  when  I  return  to  this  room."  Wil- 
marth  got  up  from  his  chair.  "  By  the  way,"  he 
added,  "  the  account  placed  to  your  credit  will  be  ten 
thousand  dollars.  You  will  receive  besides  this  an 
annuity  of  one  thousand  dollars,  paid  in  monthly  in- 
stalments of  eighty-four  dollars.  And  I  almost  for- 
got. The  fireman  at  the  refinery  is  a  good  man,  a 
friend  of  mine." 

Wilmarth  sauntered  out  of  the  room.  Morton,  be- 
ginning to  be  stupefied  by  the  heat  and  the  whisky, 
made  no  effort  to  detain  him.  As  he  stared  about, 
wondering  what  he  was  supposed  to  think  over,  he 
suddenly  espied  the  flask.  Wilmarth  had  left  it  be- 
hind. It  was  within  easy  reach.  It  was  also  nearly 
full.  Another  drink  might  help  out  the  situation, 
steady  his  brain,  instil  some  life  into  his  shivering 
frame. 

Morton  unscrewed  the  silver  top.  The  first  drink 
he  poured  out  into  a  glass.  After  that  he  swallowed, 
simply  raising-  the  bottle  to  his  mouth,  licking  his  lips ; 
it  saved  time ;  he  could  drink  faster. 

The  flask  settled  it.  By  the  time  Wilmarth  re- 
entered  Eberlie's  private  office,  Morton  was  in  a  state 


176  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

of  complete  intoxication,  ready  to  be  molded  to  any- 
one's will.  His  mouth  was  swollen  and  twisted.  His 
legs  bent  when  he  tried  to  stand.  Tears  rolled  from 
his  eyes.  He  let  himself  be  prevailed  upon  to  under- 
take any  job  Wilmarth  suggested.  It  was  all  one  to 
him.  Wilmarth  was  his  friend — a  devil  of  a  fine 
fellow. 

The  agent  went  over  the  scheme  of  destroying  the 
refinery.  It  must  be  smashed  the  next  day,  ruined  at 
the  very  start.  It  would  be  easy  to  accomplish,  for 
Morton's  word  was  law  at  the  works.  Afterward 
there  would  be  wealth  and  idleness  for  the  expert,  the 
danger  of  poverty  passed. 

Wilmarth  locked  his  arms  into  Morton's,  helping  the 
fellow  home,  only  leaving  him  after  he  was  safe  in  bed 
and  sleeping  off  the  effects  of  the  liquor.  Then  the 
agent  departed  to  his  hotel.  He  was  very  self-satis- 
fied, but  there  was  no  special  air  of  elation  in  his  man- 
ner. The  truth  was,  Wilmarth  had  never  doubted 
the  result,  never  worried  over  the  outcome.  From  the 
moment  of  his  first  suggestion  up  to  the  present  time, 
when  his  work  stood  completed,  he  had  remained 
equally  sure  of  his  man, 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  177 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

Morton  got  up  late  the  next  morning.  His  head 
ached  to  splitting.  His  throat  was  so  parched  that 
he  could  not  eat,  only  swallow  glass  after  glass  of 
water.  He  remembered  little  of  his  home-coming. 
He  had  a  dim  remembrance  of  being  helped  to  bed, 
nothing  more.  But  one  thing  remained  clearly  in  his 
mind.  He  understood  perfectly  that  this  day  was  to 
witness  his  commission  of  a  criminal  act,  a  deed  to  be 
paid  for  by  a  sum  of  money  and  a  yearly  income. 

He  threw  on  his  clothes,  muttering  that  it  was  a 
confounded  nuisance  to  have  to  take  such  a  long  walk 
so  early  in  the  day.  He  would  be  glad  when  the 
thing  was  done  and  he  could  crawl  into  bed  again. 
His  head  would  break  at  the  rate  it  hurt  now.  Besides, 
he  was  no  longer  a  poor  man  at  everybody's  beck  and 
call.  He  could  live  as  he  pleased.  On  the  whole,  he 
had  made  an  admirable  arrangement.  He  was  too  old 
to  begin  a  life  of  hardship  over  again,  and  one  had  to 
look  out.  for  himself  these  days.  No  one  else  ever  con- 
sidered you.  especially  if  you  were  hard  up. 

It  was  nine  o'clock  when  he  finally  reached  the  re- 
finery. Jarvis  met  him  outside,  looking  a  little  wor- 
ried, glancing  sharply  at  Morton's  face  before  he 
spoke. 


1.1 


178  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

"  I  was  afraid  something  had  gone  wrong.  We  are 
waiting  for  you.  The  refinery  can't  run  without  you, 
Morton." 

"  I  was  sick  all  night — sick — done  up.  I  couldn't 
eat  a  mouthful  of  breakfast." 

At  once  Jarvis  decided  it  was  best  to  humor  the 
man.  Until  things  were  running  in  good  shape,  Mor- 
ton was  a  big  consideration. 

"  It's  too  bad,  old  man.  Perhaps  after  things  get 
going,  you  can  rest  a  while — up  at  the  house,  you 
know." 

But  Morton  shook  his  head.  He  had  come  to  work. 
If  he  had  intended  to  rest  he  would  not  have  got  out 
of  bed  at  all.  He  knew  he  had  no  business  coming  out 
that  day,  but  he  never  considered  himself.  All  his 
life  had  been  spent  at  the  beck  and  call  of  others. 
Some  day  that  would  be  changed.  Some  day  he 
would  stay  at  home  and  have  what  he  deserved.  He 
was  growing  old.  Small  wonder,  therefore,  that  indo- 
lence appeared  attractive.  He  was  very  curt,  very 
cross,  wagging  his  head,  behaving  like  a  worried  ani- 
mal, complaining  of  all  sorts  of  ailments. 

Lawler,  Hale,  young  Mason,  Callister,  all  of  them 
were  awaiting  Morton's  appearance.  For  over  two 
hours  they  had  wandered  about  the  place,  their  hands 
behind  their  backs,  peering  into  every  nook  and  corner, 
discussing  the  future,  seeing  in  the  first  firing  of  the 
still,  the  completion  of  their  enterprise,  the  achievement 
they  had  all  staked  on  so  heavily.  In  a  way,  these 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  179 

three  stills  represented  to  the  men  their  world.  The 
success  of  the  refinery  meant  the  Company's  future; 
the  Company's  future  was  their  future. 

When  Morton  made  his  entrance  the  group  looked 
steadily  at  him  for  a  moment.  Abruptly  the  old  feel- 
ing of  distrust,  the  feeling  each  one  had  sought  to  beat 
down,  leaped  into  their  minds.  Was  it  possible  he, 
their  expert,  the  most  needed  man  in  the  Company,  was 
to  fail  them  now?  Not  one  of  them  stirred,  not  one 
spoke.  The  expert's  face,  never  prepossessing,  was 
more  disagreeable  than  ever.  His  hair  was  disor- 
dered, his  nose  scarlet,  his  face  covered  with  a  heavy 
sweat  that  trickled  off  him.  His  eyes  were  bloodshot 
and  only  half  opened. 

But  to  the  inexpressible  relief  of  all  the  onlookers, 
Morton,  notwithstanding  all  their  fears,  seemed  to 
know  what  he  was  about.  In  a  jerky  voice  he  issued 
commands  to  the  fireman,  who  stood  waiting  for  or- 
ders. He  disposed  of  the  members  of  the  Company 
one  by  one,  sending  each  one  on  a  different  errand. 

Jarvis  was  to  see  that  one  still  was  filled  properly 
with  crude  oil ;  another  was  sent  to  the  storage  tanks ; 
a  third  was  told  to  sit  outside  and  watch  the  chimney — 
sometimes  a  new  chimney  played  the  devil.  If  there 
were  any  signs  of  flame  where  there  should  be  only 
smoke,  it  must  be  reported  at  once.  Oil  was  danger- 
ous stuff.  It  couldn't  be  neglected  at  any  part  of  the 
handling.  He  could  not  do  everything  himself.  He 
would  if  he  could,  but  his  place  that  day  was  by  the 
furnaces. 


180  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

When  the  place  was  empty,  Morton  turned  to  the 
fireman. 

"  You  are  to  do  as  you  are  ordered  and  keep  your 
mouth  shut." 

The  fireman  nodded. 

"  Give  me  the  chance  to  get  out.  I  was  promised 
that,"  he  muttered. 

"  You  can  get  out  when  I  do.  I  didn't  hire  out  to 
blow  myself  to  hell." 

With  a  brusque  wrench  Morton  seized  the  electric 
safety-valve,  Callister's  invention.  He  weighted  it 
down  with  heavy  iron,  packing  it  solidly  with  plaster  of 
paris.  He  worked  with  lightning  rapidity,  his  shift- 
ing eyes  never  above  the  ground,  his  ears  alert,  every 
sense  sharpened  against  intrusion. 

"  Fire  this  still,"  he  said  to  his  fireman,  "  as  heavy 
as  you  possibly  can.  Get  a  move  on  you.  This  thing 
has  got  to  be  done  quick  or  we  are  goners.  We 
mustn't  be  discovered." 

Together  the  men  shoveled  in  the  coal.  The  only 
vision  before  them  was  the  finish  of  the  disaster.  Ev- 
erything was  thrown  wide  open.  The  fire-box  began  to 
grow  cherry.  The  two  creatures  of  Wilmarth  worked 
like  demons.  And  under  their  labors,  bit  by  bit,  the 
indicator  of  the  steam-gage  rose.  Every  second  the 
risk  increased,  but  Morton  with  set  teeth  stood  his 
ground,  side  by  side  with  the  fireman. 

The  odor  of  new  iron  and  hot  steam  reeked  in  his 
face,  The  furnace  roared,  a  blinding  fog  of  vapor 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  181 

spread  around  them,  the  heat  poured  out,  all  but  un- 
endurable.    The  room  was  like  the  maw  O'f  hell. 

There  was  utter  silence.  Outside,  the  men,  all  on 
different  missions,  watched,  waited,  having  no  sus- 
picion of  what  threatened. 

Inside,  the  furnace,  like  a  giant  monster,  gorged  to 
the  mouth  with  fuel,  its  belly  full  to  repletion,  rumbled 
and  roared,  working  momentarily  to  a  spirit  of  retalia- 
tion. 

Slowly,  like  the  rising  of  the  sun,  the  glow  in- 
creased. A  great  uneasiness  had  seized  the  fireman. 
In  spite  of  himself,  he  turned  pale.  He  shut  his  teeth 
with  an  oath.  "  God !  it  won't  stand  much  more. 
Don't  stay  too  long." 

A  tremendous  hissing  drowned  his  voice.  Morton 
threw  open  the  furnace  door,  pouring  in  more  coal. 
He  looked  for  a  moment  as  if  blazing  like  a  torch.  It 
seemed  as  if  his  flesh  must  melt.  A  boiling  sweat  was 
soaking  his  clothing.  He  could  see  the  steam-gage 
up  now  to  the  danger  point.  Death,  swift,  terrible, 
resistless,  was  speeding  towards  him;  disaster,  com- 
plete, vengeful,  towards  his  friends.  All  the  forces  on 
earth  could  not  stop  the  blow  now. 

Up  and  up  rose  the  steam,  inexorable,  persistent. 
Suddenly  the  ground  trembled.  Morton  turned  quick- 
ly to  the  fireman.  Deafened  with  the  roar,  blind  with 
the  heat,  he  signed  to  the  man  to  go.  A  shower  of 
sparks  beat  upon  him.  Great  clouds  of  vapor  rose 
and  spread.  There  was  the  smell  of  hot  oil,  a  fearful 
vision  of  blinding,  dizzying  heat. 


182  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

Half  cooked,  the  two  men  rushed  towards  the  door. 
Flames  followed  them.  Jarvis,  by  this  time  uneasy 
with  waiting  outside,  sure  something  was  wrong,  was 
coming  towards  the  refinery.  Instinctively  young 
Mason  and  Callister  followed  him.  All  three  uttered 
a  cry. 

At  that  moment  the  whole  building  rocked  and 
roared.  There  was  a  gigantic  report,  followed  by  one 
explosion  after  another  in  quick  succession.  The  air 
was  filled  with  falling  iron  and  flying  debris.  Long 
tongues  of  fire  shot  up.  \Vithin  twenty  feet  of  the 
refinery  stood  the  storage  tanks, — immense  wooden 
barrels  full  to  the  top  with  petroleum;  hundreds  of 
gallons  of  crude  oil,  the  fuel  that  contagion  loves,  in- 
flammable as  gunpowder.  Before  the  men  had  gone 
a  dozen  steps,  as  yet  hardly  conscious  of  what  had 
happened,  there  was  a  flash.  The  tanks  had  caught. 
In  less  than  a  second  a  cataract  of  blazing  oil  streamed 
out,  flowing  in  every  direction,  a  veritable  lake  of 
flame. 

There  could  be  no  mistake  about  matters  now.  Sud- 
denly Jarvis  shouted,  "  Run  for  your  lives !  " 

And  now  the  men  saw  that  to  be  held  for  the  fraction 
of  a  second  was  to  be  roasted  alive.  The  fire  was 
moving  on  them.  Callister,  Jarvis,  Morton,  young 
Mason  and  the  fireman  turned,  springing  forward,  the 
flames  spreading  a  red  whirl  of  confusion  behind  them. 
Waves  upon  waves  of  oil,  swirling,  dashing,  pursuing 
them  as  they  tore  across  the  field.  A  slip,  a  fall,  and 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  183 

deatn  was  upon  them.  The  whole  ground,  crackling 
and  smoking,  had  become  an  enormous  funeral  pyre. 

The  sound  of  their  breathing  split  the  air.  Agony 
looked  from  their  eyes.  Exhaustion  was  upon  them, 
yet  to  pause  meant  death  in  its  most  malevolent  form — 
an  end  too  grisly  to  be  thought  of. 

Twisting,  dodging,  turning,  on  and  on  they  went  in 
a  wild,  furious  struggle  to  evade  that  sea  of  fire.  The 
minutes  went  by.  The  oil  spread  and  spread,  a  surg- 
ing ocean,  cutting  off  every  avenue  of  escape.  The 
runners  were  wearing  out. 

Upon  the  porch  of  the  house  Theo,  wild-eyed,  pale 
as  death,  stood  transfixed  with  horror.  Her  throat 
gripped  with  frenzy  at  what  she  saw.  Lawler  and 
Hale  free,  by  the  merest  accident,  followed  along  the 
edge  of  that  monstrous  sea  of  death,  calling  encourage- 
ment, suggesting  escape,  cursing  the  red  terror  that 
threatened  to  engulf  the  men  they  loved.  They  were 
frantic  at  their  own  helplessness ;  maddened  at  the  dan- 
ger they  were  powerless  to  avert. 

Suddenly  Jarvis'  eyes  spied  an  opening  between  two 
rivulets  of  fire.  His  lips  closed  hard,  resolute.  His 
mind  was  made  up.  He  would  run  the  risk  of  cross- 
ing. It  was  either  that  or  death.  The  terrific  pace  was 
telling  on  him.  Shouting  to  the  men  behind  him,  he 
turned.  It  was  a  question  how  long  before  the  open- 
ing would  be  closed.  But  for  the  moment,  at  least, 
safety  lay  the  other  side. 

Jarvis    raced    over.      Callister    followed.      Young 


184  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

Mason  barely  reached  the  opening  when  his  strength 
collapsed.  He  fell  flat,  almost  unconscious.  Lawler 
seized  him,  lifting  him  bodily,  holding  him  in  his  arms 
like  a  child.  Hale  stood  ready  for  the  next  one. 

The  rivulets  were  closer.  The  whole  mass  of  oil 
seemed  congesting  towards  that  one  avenue  of  escape. 
A  second  more  and  the  passage  would  be  completely 
closed,  impassable,  covered  by  the  enemy. 

Morton,  crying  out  oath  upon  oath,  staggered  over 
the  line,  holding  his  head  between  his  hands,  blood 
running  from  his  nose  and  mouth.  The  fireman  was 
coming  slower.  Every  minute  his  footsteps  fell 
heavier.  He  was  dazed.  He  could  not  keep  straight 
in  the  main  line  that  marked  escape.  Once  he  slipped, 
fell  to  his  knees,  but  struggled  up  again.  He  had  to 
jump  now,  from  spot  to  spot.  His  arms  uplifted  in 
large  gestures,  his  mouth  moved.  Suddenly  the  man 
began  to  laugh.  His  countenance  was  stamped  with 
unspeakable  horror,  his  eyes  starting  from  his  head. 
Still  he  laughed. 

"  Hurry,  hurry !  Good  God,  it's  only  a  dozen  steps 
more!  You  will  be  safe.  Come  on!  "  yelled  Lawler. 

But  the  fireman  paid  no  heed.  Swirling,  roaring, 
steaming  about  him,  the  flaming  oil  advanced  to  meet 
him.  It  was  upon  him !  He  stood  perfectly  still,  in- 
viting death.  Reason  fled  from  his  brain.  Instead 
of  advancing,  he  retreated.  He  no  longer  saw  any- 
thing but  fire,  heard  anything  but  fire,  understood 
anything  but  fire.  Slowly,  deliberately,  he  kneeled 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  183 

down.  Bending  forward,  he  reached  for  the  liquid 
flame.  Catching  it  in  both  hands,  he  threw  it  up  over 
his  head,  bathing  himself  in  a  baptism  of  fire.  As  it 
touched  his  body  he  shrieked.  His  clothes  blazed  in 
a  dozen  places  at  once. 

The  men  turned  their  heads,  sick,  faint.  Up  on  the 
porch  Theo  had  fallen  where  she  stood.  The  terrible 
deed  that  had  been  conceived  had  come  to  pass  in  all 
its  horror. 

An  hour  later,  Lawler,  riding  like  mad,  entered 
Flaremont.  Everywhere  he  went  he  carried  the  news. 
The  refinery  had  been  blown  up.  The  explosion  had 
set  fire  to  the  storage  tanks.  The  men  had  barely 
escaped  with  their  lives.  One,  the  fireman,  lost  his 
head  and  burned  to  death. 

Men,  women,  and  children  crowded  around,  uttering 
exclamations  of  horror,  phrases  of  doubt. 

"  It  can't  be  as  bad  as  that." 

'  Mercy,  what  a  ghastly  thing!  " 

"  A  whole  sea  of  burning  oil !  Ah,  that  was  the  dan- 
ger,— handling  petroleum.  One  never  was  safe." 

To  each  new  arrival  the  story  was  repeated,  in- 
creased and  embellished.  Five  of  the  men  had  been 
fatally  burned.  Only  Lawler  had  escaped.  He  was 
here  now  for  the  undertaker. 

By  degrees,  business  was  suspended  in  the  town.  A 
sense  of  dread  hung  over  the  multitude.  If  this  had 
happened  at  one  storage  tank,  why  couldn't  it  happen 
at  every  one?  A  spark,  a  little  overheat,  and  a  holo- 


186  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

caust  was  let  loose.  By  the  Lord,  the  oil  business 
wasn't  such  a  cinch. 

The  moment  Lawler  appeared  he  was  besieged,  but 
he  had  no  time  to  add  anything  to  the  story.  A  mur- 
mur of  disappointment  followed  his  refusal.  He  had 
sent  a  doctor  and  a  nurse  post-haste  to  Jarvis'  place. 
The  undertaker  was  harnessing  his  wagon  to  go  for 
the  fireman's  body. 

The  populace  lined  the  streets,  seeing  them  all  go, — 
Lawler  galloping  ahead  on  horseback,  the  doctor  and 
nurse  next,  riding  in  a  buggy,  last  of  all,  the  under- 
taker, a  hush  of  awe  greeting  the  appearance  of  the 
black  wagon. 

Before  it  was  barely  out  of  sight,  a  dozen  men,  curi- 
osity getting  the  better  of  them,  headed  down  the  road. 
It  was  the  signal  for  half  the  town.  Instantly  a  crowd 
surged  after  them,  every  one  wanting  to  see  what  had 
really  happened,  learning  details,  going  over  the 
ground,  viewing  the  wrecked  buildings. 

Meanwhile,  at  the  house  it  had  been  discovered  that 
Randolph  Mason's  feet  were  badly  burned.  More 
than  that,  the  nervous  shock  had  laid  him  on  the  verge 
of  complete  prostration.  His  mother  had  been  sent 
for.  He  required  constant  care.  Theodora  had  not 
yet  recovered  consciousness.  She  lay  in  a  heavy 
swoon,  looking  like  one  dead,  her  breath  barely  percep- 
tible. Jarvis  hovered  over  her  like  a  man  distraught. 
He  had  kept  his  head  wonderfully  until  he  came  upon 
her  suddenly,  lying  on  the  porch,  rigid,  cold,  quiet. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  187 

For  the  moment  he  had  thought  her  dead.  Then  he 
lost  all  courage.  But  Callister  and  Hale  were  every- 
where, fighting  the  fire,  tending  Mason,  looking  after 
Morton,  carrying  the  charred  remains  of  the  fireman 
with  infinite  precaution  back  to  a  place  of  safety. 

"With  the  arrival  of  the  nurse  and  doctor,  these  two 
men  gave  their  attention  especially  to  the  expert. 
Morton  had  been  untouched  by  the  flames,  but  some- 
thing was  the  matter  with  him.  He  wandered  about, 
apparently  looking  for  something  which  he  never 
found,  uttering  disconnected  phrases,  making  huge 
gestures,  unable  to  answer  any  question  rationally. 
He  could  not  explain  anything.  His  wits  were  un- 
settled. He  seemed  to  have  grown  thinner  in  an  hour. 
His  face  was  livid  and  shockingly  haggard,  his  eyes  so 
bloodshot  that  no  whites  were  to  be  seen  at  all.  Cal- 
lister begged  him  to  go  home.  For  a  long  time  Mor- 
ton listened  without  seeming  to  comprehend.  Finally 
he  nodded  his  head. 

"  Give  me  a  drink.  I  got  to  have  a  drink.  I  can't 
see  anything  but  those  flames.  My  God,  those  red-hot 
flames  spitting  death  at  us !  Give  me  a  drink." 

Callister  got  the  brandy  for  him.  Morton  drank  it, 
tipping  the  glass  faster  than  he  could  swallow,  spilling 
the  liquor  over  his  chin  and  down  his  coat. 

At  last,  under  Lawler's  guidance,  Morton  was  as- 
sisted into  a  carryall.  After  a  series  of  prolonged  de- 
lays, he  allowed  himself  to  be  started  for  home.  But 
half-way  to  Flaremont,  the  carryall  passed  the  under- 


188  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

taker's  wagon.  The  coffin  was  in  plain  view.  At 
sight  of  it  the  expert's  reason  fled.  He  jumped  to  the 
road  with  a  scream,  rushing  madly  towards  the  woods. 
Nothing  could  induce  him  to  return.  He  ran  like  a 
deer  if  anyone  sought  to  approach  him.  Sitting  on  a 
fallen  log  under  the  shade  of  the  trees,  he  wagged  his 
head,  muttering  ceaselessly,  alert  for  any  signs  of  dan- 
ger, his  shifting  eyes  staring  into  vacancy.  Every  lit- 
tle while  he  would  twist  his  mouth  out  of  shape  with 
fiendish  grimaces.  It  was  the  beginning  of  the  end. 

All  day  long  the  crowds  stood  around  the  place. 
The  sense  of  catastrophe  hung  in  the  air.  There 
were  no  raised  voices,  no  shouting,  no  loud  talking. 
But  as  yet  the  full  horror  had  not  seized  upon  the  peo- 
ple. Curiosity  was  the  dominant  impulse. 

The  works  were  a  complete  ruin,  wrecked  beyond 
hope  of  repair.  The  brickwork  about  the  stills  was 
cracked  apart  with  heat.  Of  the  furnaces  there  re- 
mained nothing  but  a  few  fragments  of  iron.  A  gi- 
gantic pit  marked  the  spot  where  the  refinery  had 
stood.  Five  acres  of  adjoining  land  lay  smoking  and 
hot,  charred  deep  into  the  ground.  Around  it  circled 
a  solid  flank  of  wondering  people.  The  mystery  to 
them  was  not  that  so  much  had  been  burned,  but  that 
the  house  and  the  well  had  escaped  devastation. 

It  was  not  much  like  the  gathering  of  only  the  day 
before.  Twenty-four  short  hours  ago  the  air  was 
buoyant  with  hope  and  good  wishes,  and  everyone 
smiled.  Now  at  one  blow  the  work  of  weeks  was 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  189 

wiped  out.  Not  only  that,  but  the  six  men  who  had 
staked  their  money  on  the  refinery  were  ruined.  They 
could  not  begin  all  over  again.  Not  one  had  a  dollar  of 
spare  cash  to  begin  with.  The  future  lowered  with 
gloom.  Every  citizen,  every  oil  holder  in  Flaremont, 
knowing  why  the  refinery  had  been  erected,  felt  this 
disaster  as  a  personal  loss.  There  were  dozens  of  men 
waiting  to  see  how  the  Flaremont  Independent  Refiners 
Company  succeeded,  to  follow  the  experiment.  The 
undertaking  was  big  with  promise  to  the  whole 
country.  The  oil  business  without  something  of  the 
kind  was  a  dead  letter.  No  one  could  compete  with 
the  cut  prices  and  the  exorbitant  freight  rates  against 
them. 

Well,  it  was  a  shame.  The  future  didn't  look  very 
bright.  The. oil  business  would  be  at  a  standstill  be- 
fore long.  Right  now  it  seemed  to  be  a  question  either 
of  shutting  off  the  wells  or  selling  the  crude  oil  to  the 
Eastern  fellows. 

Little  by  little  there  began  to  rise  a  murmur  of  pro- 
test, a  sound  of  indignation  from  the  onlookers.  It 
wasn't  fair.  Something  was  wrong  somewhere.  The 
instinct  of  injustice  was  awakening  into  a  spirit  of  in- 
surrection. But  before  it  could  vent  itself  in  open  ex- 
pressions of  wrath,  the  night  descended.  In  twos  and 
threes  the  people  set  out  towards  home,  sullen,  silent, 
roused  as  they  had  never  been  before,  only  waiting  for 
some  flagrant  act  of  wrong  to  set  them,  rampant  and 
brutal,  a  terrible  army  of  furies,  against  the  horde  of 
their  oppressors, 


190  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

The  days  passed.  Spring  was  at  hand.  Before 
very  long  it  became  apparent  that  the  six  men  of  the 
Flaremont  Independent  Refiners  Company  were  not  the 
only  ones  with  whom  things  were  going  wrong.  It 
seemed  as  if  the  destruction  of  that  refinery  was  a 
signal  for  ruin  everywhere  about  Flaremont.  One  by 
one,  all  through  the  immediate  district,  drills  and  pumps 
ceased  operations.  Men  stood  aghast  at  the  outlook. 
Except  in  certain  cases  where  drillers  sold  their  output 
direct  to  agents  for  the  Eastern  Petroleum  Company, 
the  shut-down  was  complete.  The  only  oil  hauled  by 
the  railroad  was  for  this  gigantic  Eastern  concern, 
which,  like  some  monster  devil-fish,  reached  its  arms  in 
all  directions,  gradually  fastening  a  hold  on  every  pe- 
troleum region  East  and  West. 

More  than  this,  invariably  where  some  man,  more 
persistent  than  his  neighbors,  insisted  on  putting  his 
product  on  the  market,  the  consequences  were  serious. 
Disaster  overtook  him.  His  machinery  gave  out 
mysteriously.  His  derrick,  apparently  sound  one  day, 
would  be  cheapened  into  junk  the  next.  In  two  cases 
nitroglycerin  had  been  used  to  force  a  shut-down, 
but  each  time  the  destroyer  had  managed  so  cleverly 
that  it  was  impossible  to  discover  the  criminal. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  191 

Then  conviction  seized  upon  the  people.  It  became 
clear  in  men's  minds  that  there  was  dirty  work  some- 
where. Some  power,  intelligent,  resourceful,  deter- 
mined, was  at  them,  bound  to  win  at  any  cost.  They 
dared  not  think  ahead  a  minute.  Panic  seized  upon 
them.  Men  who,  up  to  this  time,  had  been  fear- 
less, suddenly  grew  bewildered.  The  calamity  that 
had  fallen  upon  them  was  depriving  them  of  their  in- 
come, taking  the  bread  from  their  mouths.  It  was  not 
accidental.  The  uneasiness  became  overwhelming. 
Gravity  reigned  where  once  gaiety  had  been  en- 
throned. 

In  the  little  world  of  tradespeople  and  contractors 
it  became  a  vital  question  whether,  in  face  of  the 
diminution  of  receipts,  all  shops  must  close.  Already 
the  change  in  Flaremont  was  appalling.  It  no  longer 
bristled  with  importance.  For  hours  of  every  day  the 
streets  were  silent.  Drays  and  carts  no  longer  clat- 
tered over  the  pavement.  Building  had  stopped  short. 
Dozens  of  newly  completed  structures  stood  vacant, 
staring  placards  posted  at  every  window,  "  To  Let — 
cheap."  Workingmen  were  thrown  out  of  employ- 
ment. New  stores  were  closed,  the  old  ones  did  busi- 
ness largely  on  a  credit  basis,  hundreds  of  families 
counted  the  days  before  they  would  subsist  on  charity. 

As  idleness  and  poverty  increased,  dirtiness,  drunk- 
enness and  crime  naturally  increased  also.  One  never 
would  have  recognized  certain  houses  that  once  had 
been  Flaremont's  pride.  It  became  unsafe  for  a  worn- 


192  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

an  to  walk  on  the  streets  alone  after  dark.  Stagna- 
tion, anger,  hopelessness,  insurrection,  prevailed  every- 
where. 

Finally,  under  the  influence  of  Jarvis,  a  committee 
was  formed  among  the  well  owners  and  well  drillers 
of  the  district.  He  alone  seemed  unbroken  by  the  in- 
justice and  ruin  that  menaced  their  oil  trade.  He  had 
seen  himself  worse  off  and  still  pull  through.  If  there 
was  any  legitimate  hope  that  had  been  overlooked  or 
untried,  it  must  be  hunted  up.  As  every  man  in  the 
district  was  affected  by  the  same  oppression,  it  was  for 
every  man  to  come  in  a  general  meeting  to  discuss  the 
outlook. 

The  largest  hall  in  Flaremont  was  hired.  The  oil- 
men for  miles  around  were  asked  to  come.  On  the 
night  set  for  the  assembly,  the  room  was  packed  to  the 
doors,  and  on  every  face  was  stamped  the  same  expres- 
sion of  rage  and  despair. 

Jarvis  opened  the  meeting.  He  was  very  careful 
what  he  said.  The  man  realized  that  only  a  word  was 
needed  to  set  loose  the  spirit  of  insurrection.  He  had 
no  wish  to  turn  the  occasion  from  the  legitimate  pur- 
pose of  discussing  means  into  an  outbreak  of  revolt. 

He  stated  his  reasons  for  calling  the  men  together, 
speaking  clearly,  concisely,  touching  on  the  circum- 
stances that  seemed  to  combine  against  a  successful  con- 
tinuance of  their  business.  He  claimed  faith  in  the 
law,  belief  in  the  brotherhood  of  men,  asserting  that 
in  his  judgment  a  serious  talk  with  representatives  of 


UK    FKLL    FLAT,  ALMOST   UNCONSCIOUS.— Page  184. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  193 

the  railroad  and  the  Eastern  oilmen  would  result  in 
setting  matters  straight  and  settling  the  present  diffi- 
culties. But  he  was  sure  organization  would  be  bet- 
ter, would  assure  more  definite  accomplishments,  than 
the  haphazard  method  of  each  man's  trying  to  work 
out  the  problem  by  himself.  He  asked  that  this  ques- 
tion be  considered  first:  the  organizing  of  the  Flare- 
mont  County  oilmen.  He  hoped  and  believed  that 
the  assembled  citizens  were  at  heart  too  loyal  to  allow 
their  grievances  or  their  anger  to  get  the  better  of  their 
judgment.  He  asked  for  opinions,  begging  for  mod- 
eration in  the  speeches  that  were  made.  He  concluded 
by  saying: 

"  I  feel  that  I  have  the  right  to  ask  for  moderation. 
If  you  have  suffered,  I  have  doubly  so.  Not  only  does 
the  oil  from  my  well  seep  away,  but  all  the  savings  of 
years  of  hard  work  evaporated  in  the  flames  that  de- 
stroyed the  refinery.  I  am  penniless,  destitute  except 
what  my  well  will  make  for  me.  Yet  I  am  not  dis- 
couraged. I  still  have  faith.  I  know  we  can  win  if 
we  keep  our  heads  and  go  about  this  thing  calmly,  de- 
liberately, like  men  and  not  school-boys." 

He  was  listened  to  with  great  attention  and  ap- 
plauded when  he  finally  sat  down,  but  instantly  Jarvis 
knew  that  he  had  not  won  their  sympathy.  He  had 
been  heard  out  because  it  was  he  who  had  spoken,  be- 
cause he  had  the  respect  of  every  man  there.  It  took 
little  more  than  one  glance  at  those  set  faces  to  scent 
danger.  He  knew  then  his  purpose  for  the  meeting 


13 


194  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

had  failed.  He  had  brought  together  a  crowd  of  in- 
furiated men  who  would  have  their  say  regardless  of 
the  cost,  and  that  say  would  be  anarchy.  But  at  least 
Jarvis  had  expected  to  be  upheld  by  his  friends.  To 
his  utter  amazement,  Lawler  arose  to  his  feet  with  an 
abrupt  announcement,  that  conservatism  was  well 
enough,  but  the  way  to  meet  violence  was  by  violence ; 
the  way  to  fight  destruction  was  to  destroy;  the  way 
to  handle  criminals  was  by  crime. 

In  a  second  the  audience  was  in  an  uproar,  stamp- 
ing, cheering,  waving  hats.  He  continued : 

"  I  have  not  my  friend's  patience.  Perhaps  I  am 
a  coward,  but  patience  has,  to  my  mind,  ceased  to  be  a 
virtue.  Until  now,  if  I  could  not  meet  competition  one 
way,  I  was  ready  and  willing  to  meet  it  another.  Ev- 
erything that  was  legitimate  warfare  I  acknowledged 
as  such  and  sought  to  find  an  open  way  on  to  the  high 
road  of  prosperity.  But  now  we  are  like  a  pack  of  wild 
animals  at  bay.  We  are  harried  and  chased  by  a  mon- 
ster of  no  heart,  no  feeling,  recognizing  no  man's 
rights ;  a  thing  feeding  on  our  blood,  on  the  life's  blood 
of  our  wives  and  children.  The  way  to  deal  with  that 
terror  is  by  violence.  We  can't  be  chased  forever. 
We  can't  run  our  lives  out,  never  stopping  or  turning 
once  for  defense. 

"  It  is  time  the  lines  are  drawn  between  competi- 
tion and  conspiracy,  between  business  and  brigandage. 
I  am  a  law-abiding  citizen.  I  believe  in  our  laws.  I 
am  proud  of  my  city,  my  state,  my  country,  but  the 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  195 

creature  which  has  come  to  us  is  not  a  thing  to  awaken 
patriotism.  It  buys  our  laws  to  hide  under  them.  Be 
it  said  to  our  everlasting  shame,  the  nation  sells  its 
protection ;  sells  it  to  this  octopus  which  feeds  on  hu- 
man lives, — the  lives  of  our  best  citizens, — even  while 
it  seeks  to  demand  our  sacred  duties  of  citizenship ! 

"  Well,  we  will  do  our  duty.  We  will  prove  our 
loyalty.  Exterminate  this  hydra-headed  monster  called 
'  The  Trust.'  Rid  our  nation  of  the  greatest  curse, 
the  greatest  evil,  the  greatest  danger  that  threatens 
it  to-day." 

Lawler  sat  down.  He  was  trembling  violently. 
He  scarcely  heard  the  thunders  of  applause,  or  saw  the 
fire  that  his  words  had  kindled. 

He  was  followed  by  an  old  man,  a  new-comer  to 
Texas,  a  man  who,  like  the  others,  had  put  his  little 
savings  of  years  into  an  oil-well,  only  to  see  greater 
poverty  than  ever  stalking  by  his  side. 

"  The  gentleman  is  right.  It's  all  well  enough  to 
preach  moderation  when  you've  got  a  house  that  isn't 
mortgaged,  and  a  carriage  to  ride  in  when  you're  tired, 
and  food  to  eat  in  plenty  when  you're  hungry — but 
wait.  Just  wait  till  you  see  your  children  crying  be- 
cause their  stomachs  gnaw  with  pain  for  something  to 
put  into  them.  When,  after  watching  your  wife  slave 
herself  to  a  shadow  to  keep  a  roof  over  her  head,  the 
sheriff  turns  her  and  the  little  ones  out  on  the  street. 
Wait  till  you  see  the  machinery  you  have  just  finished 
paying  for  suddenly  give  out,  not  in  one  place,  but  in 


196  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

fifty — gone  so  completely  that  to  repair  it  brings  you 
into  a  debt  you  can't  pay  for  years.  Wait  till  you 
know  that,  with  all  your  care,  and  your  trouble,  and 
your  hard  work,  and  your  honesty,  and  your  toleration, 
nothing  counts  with  those  fellows  that  are  bound  to 
shut  you  up,  bound  to  squeeze  the  life  out  of  you  for  no 
reason  except  to  fill  their  pockets  fuller  of  the  gold  that 
is  already  spilling  from  'em.  I  tell  you  I  ain't  afraid 
to  die.  I'm  most  through  with  life,  anyhow.  But  I'd 
rather  go  off  this  earth  swinging  on  the  gallows  for  the 
murder  of  one  of  those  beasts  who  grind  us  to  the 
ground,  than  to  pass  away  peacefully  in  my  bed  know- 
ing they  were  all  free  to  go  on  their  damnable  road  of 
ruination." 

As  the  old  man  finished,  hands  were  outstretched  to 
shake  his.  Voices  rose  in  sympathetic  acquiescence. 
Every  heart  there  had  been  touched.  Men  could  un- 
derstand his  feeling.  Once  begun,  the  revolutionary 
tempest  grew.  Men  sprang  to  their  feet,  their  faces 
inflamed,  their  bodies  quivering  with  excitement,  giv- 
ing vent  to  threats,  advising  extreme  measures,  ready 
to  maim  or  kill — anything  to  batter  out  the  life  of  the 
enemy  who  pursued  them.  The  promptings  of  impulse 
unleashed  the  spirit  of  insurrection.  The  sudden  op- 
portunity to  give  voice  to  a  long-continued  accumula- 
tion of  grievances,  inspired  men  to  speak  who  never  be- 
fore had  found  the  courage  to  utter  a  sound  in  public. 
It  was  as  if  these  oppressed  people  abruptly  realized 
their  own  strength  and  were  savage  with  the  knowl- 
edge. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  197 

The  uproar  increased.  Nothing  was  too  violent  to 
be  applauded.  Jarvis,  unwilling  to  stay  longer  and 
listen  impassively  to  what  was  being  preached,  left  the 
hall.  It  would  do  no  good  to  rise  in  his  place  and 
endeavor  to  check  that  torrent  of  feeling.  He  under- 
stood that.  One  might  as  well  attempt  to  still  the 
surging  of  the  ocean.  But  he  would  not  remain  and 
sanction  by  his  presence  that  with  which  he  had  no  sym- 
pathy. Never  could  he  pledge  himself  to  some  ruth- 
less scheme  of  open  anarchy.  The  idea  of  following 
in  blind,  senseless  rage  after  a  course  of  action  out- 
lined by  men  made  irresponsible  from  oppression,  was 
repulsive  to  him.  He  was  willing  to  strike  at  the 
enemy,  but  the  retaliation  must  be  honorable.  He 
would  be  true  to  the  drillers'  interests,  but  he  would 
not  be  swayed  by  such  violent  emotions  as  his  col- 
leagues betrayed. 

Callister  had  been  strangely  affected  by  this  scene 
of  hate  and  passion.  It  was  like  a  drama  unfolding 
before  his  eyes  in  which  his  friends  played  the  princi- 
pal roles.  He  stood  apart,  looking  upon  that  uprising 
of  the  brute  instinct  of  the  people,  seeing  in  it  the  logi- 
cal consequence  of  a  serious  situation.  It  was  the 
open  note  of  alarm  sounded  against  a  condition  that 
threatened  the  freedom  of  a  country.  It  was  a  demand 
for  a  protection  that  the  laws  did  not  give;  a  demand 
from  the  people  that  energy,  industry,  honesty,  fore- 
sight, should  stand  for  their  worth,  escaping  oblitera- 
tion by  the  single  power,  CAPITAL.  It  was  the 


198  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

masses  running  athwart  a  force,: — a  struggle  far-reach- 
ing, many-sided,  begun  in  righteous  anger,  with  every 
prospect  of  being  wrought  out  to  a  finish  in  ferocity 
and  human  agony. 

Callister  could  see  that  these  men  stood  perilously 
near  a  crisis,  but  was  it  the  real  crisis?  Would  this 
little  group  of  men  win  their  cause,  rallying  the  people 
about  their  standard?  Or  was  it  all  a  delusion  of 
vague  hopes,  useless  struggles,  uncertain  results? 
Would  they  be  pushed  aside,  paying  the  penalty,  in  the 
end,  of  opposing  themselves  to  one  of  those  enormous 
consolidations  that  from  sheer  force  of  weight  cannot 
be  resisted? 

He  followed  Jarvis  out  into  the  night,  his  mind 
troubled  with  a  hundred  dissensions.  For  a  long  time 
he  had  felt  the  need  of  unburdening  himself  to  some- 
one, telling  what  was  on  his  mind.  Jarvis  would  un- 
derstand, although  the  communication  had  to  deal  with 
matters  scarcely  more  than  fancies.  For  Callister, 
living  solitary,  alone,  and  close  to  Nature,  was  gifted 
with  something  akin  to  second  sight.  Under  the  in- 
fluence of  his  surroundings,  his  imagination  had  become 
exalted.  Over  and  over  he  had  illusions  that  pos- 
sessed all  the  elements  of  reality,  strange  impressions 
that,  intangible,  far  off,  not  to  be  seen  by  another,  yet 
stirred  in  his  mind  like  some  sixth  sense. 

Supernatural  as  it  all  seemed,  the  man  had  learned 
to  follow  these  impressions.  Never  had  they  led  him 
astray.  Repeatedly  he  had  put  them  to  the  test,  only 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  199 

to  find  that  again  and  again  certain  portions  of  the 
future  were  unveiled  to  his  vision,  bringing  him  close 
to  the  realm  of  mysticism. 

It  had  been  in  one  of  these  hallucinations  that  Orton 
had  first  stood  before  him.  In  fact,  every  important 
event  in  Callister's  life  had  been  distinctly  foretold. 
Only  once  had  it  failed  to  warn  him.  The  night  fol- 
lowing the  explosion  he  suddenly  remembered  that 
he  had  received  no  presentiment  of  this  calamity. 
Thinking  and  thinking  of  that  terrible  scene,  he  was 
beset  with  the  belief  that  the  disastei  had  been  no 
accident,  but  deliberately  planned. 

He  sat  on  the  porch,  looking  with  musing  eyes  off 
towards  the  vast  prairie,  wide  as  the  open  sea,  and  bit 
by  bit  the  thing  grew  clear  to  him.  From  out  the 
voiceless  silence  something  spoke  to  him;  from  the 
empty  night  something  rose  before  him,  until  Callister 
knew  the  truth — knew  it  for  himself  beyond  all  ques- 
tion of  doubt,  yet  dared  not  speak.  Until  he  had 
proofs,  tangible  proofs  to  show,  who  would  believe  so 
dreadful  a  story? 

For  it  was  dreadful — hideous  even, — the  knowledge 
that  step  by  step  men  could  trace  out  a  course  of 
devastation  to  their  fellowmen  that  had  but  one 
goal — ruin.  It  was  worse  than  actual  murder.  For 
hounded,  driven,  pursued  inexorably  to  the  end,  still 
all  through  the  chase  the  victim  would  go  on  dodging, 
twisting,  hoping  to  the  last  to  discover  a  side  path  un- 
traversed  by  the  enemy. 


200  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

For  a  long  time  Callister  sat,  his  head  bowed  on  his 
breast,  his  arms  folded,  his  belief  in  omniscient  good- 
ness disordered  by  his  discovery.  He  was  shaken  to 
the  heart's  core  by  this  new  complication. 

To-night  he  felt  it  time  to  speak,  time  to  tell  Jarvis 
what  he  felt  and  what  he  knew. 

"  Jarvis,"  he  began,  "  there's  something  all  wrong 
here  somewhere,  something  working  against  us  and 
we  are  all  in  the  dark." 

"  I  know  it,  Cal.  Really,  those  men  to-night  have 
plenty  of  excuse  for  the  way  they  talk.  We  have  been 
going  from  bad  to  worse  continually.  We  are  play- 
ing the  losing  game  at  every  point.  It's  as  if  there 
were  some  concentrated  action  against  us,  some  gigan- 
tic power  checkmating  us  at  every  turn.  It's  getting 
pretty  nearly  desperate." 

"  That's  just  what  there  is,  Jarvis — concentrated  ac- 
tion— a  giant  working  against  the  pigmy;  a  thing  pos- 
sessed of  colossal  intellect,  millions  of  money,  arms 
that  reach  around  the  world  with  muscles  of  such 
power  that  to  crush  anyone  who  fights  for  freedom  is 
child's  play.  The  arm  that  encircles  Flaremont  is  Wil- 
marth.  The  creature  that  we're  up  against  is  the 
trust." 

Jarvis  nodded.  "  Of  course,  I've  suspected  that's 
what  we  are  bucking  against,  but  I  can't  believe  that 
men  could  condescend  to  blow  up  buildings  and  destroy 
machinery,  endangering  life  and  property  for  the  sake 
of  winning  a  fight." 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  201 

;' You  haven't  seen  Morton  lately,  I  suppose?" 
asked  Callister,  abruptly. 

Jarvis  shook  his  head. 

"  You  remember  probably  his  first  great  anxiety 
about  trusting  his  cash  in  the  refinery.  But  have  you 
noticed  that  now  he  is  not  the  least  upset  or  undone  by 
the  loss  of  his  money?  True,  he  keeps  out  of  our  way, 
but  he  is  living  on  the  fat  of  the  land,  apparently  better 
off  since  that  affair  than  before." 

Jarvis  stared.  "  To  tell  the  truth,  I  haven't  thought 
much  about  him,"  said  he. 

"  Well,  I  would  like  to  show  you  something.  Some- 
thing that  has  become  a  nightly  occurrence  at  the 
*  Inn.'  It  may  open  your  eyes." 

A  dozen  times  before  these  two  had  hunted  out  Mor- 
ton, anxious  to  get  from  him  the  details  of  what  had 
occurred  in  the  furnace-room  on  that  terrible  morning. 
But  Morton's  passion  for  liquor,  once  gratified,  pos- 
sessed him,  riding  him  day  and  night.  He  was  never 
sober.  When  anyone  approached  him  with  questions 
of  the  accident,  he  yelled  out  drunken  arguments,  using 
disgusting  language. 

His  face  was  besotted  with  drink,  his  breath  reeked 
with  the  smell  of  brandy,  his  eyes  paled  with  excesses. 
But  in  spite  of  his  continual  dissipations,  his  pockets 
never  seemed  empty.  He  ran  up  no  bills ;  everywhere 
his  credit  was  good.  People  began  to  wonder  where 
the  fellow  got  his  money. 

But  for  all  their  suspicions,  no  one  dared  ask  him 


202  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

anything.  He  was  an  object  to  be  feared;  his  temper 
was  something  terrible.  Without  the  least  reason  he 
would  give  way  to  it,  roaring  out  oaths,  his  eyes  shin- 
ing with  fury,  his  hands  doubled,  ready  to  pound  any- 
one who  approached.  At  such  times  he  said  nothing 
one  could  understand,  but  strange,  guttural  sounds 
issued  from  his  throat  like  the  suppressed  growls  of 
an  enraged  animal.  Men  gave  him  a  wide  berth. 
Women  ran  from  him,  seized  with  fear,  all  of  a  tremble. 

At  the  Inn,  Morton  was  very  drunk.  He  crouched 
on  a  chair,  swaying  his  head,  his  shifting  eyes  staring 
into  vacancy.  The  room  was  spinning  around  him. 
The  reeking  air  made  it  hard  for  him  to  breathe.  The 
sweat  dripped  from  him  in  great,  greasy  drops,  but 
again  and  again,  with  an  automatic  gesture,  he 
stretched  forth  an  arm,  drawing  his  glass  towards 
him,  tossing  the  contents  down  his  throat  with  a  single 
motion. 

As  was  the  case  every  day,  he  had  drunk  him- 
self into  a  rage.  On  hearing  steps  near  his  chair,  he 
swung  his  head,  his  pale  eyes  fixing  on  Callister  and 
Jarvis.  For  an  instant  he  stared  at  them,  bewildered, 
his  muddled  brain  slow  to  act.  This  was  the  last 
straw.  The  sight  of  these  two  men  whom  he  had 
wronged,  set  him  into  a  passion  that  threatened  dan- 
ger. His  face  gleamed  with  murderous  hate,  his  skin 
turned  purple  under  his  scraggy  beard.  He  gave  vent 
to  an  explosion  of  oaths.  Immediately  the  attention 
of  every  man  in  the  saloon  was  fastened  on  Morton, 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  203 

but  no  one  dared  venture  near  him.  Business  was 
practically  suspended.  The  proprietor  made  his  ap- 
pearance from  some  corner,  evidently  dreading  what 
was  to  come.  As  if  fearing  an  attack,  Morton  clutched 
fast  to  a  chair,  drawing  his  body  erect,  his  teeth 
clenched,  standing  on  the  defensive.  When  he  found 
neither  Callister  nor  Jarvis  advanced  towards  him,  his 
fury  increased. 

"  You  spies,  you  spies,  you  damned  spies ! "  he 
choked  the  words  out.  "  I'm  never  free  of  you.  I'll 
teach  you  you  can't  follow  me  in  this  way.  Get  out! 
Get  out,  or  I'll  kill  you." 

He  lurched  forward,  knocking  down  the  table,  bruis- 
ing himself,  all  but  falling.  The  hurt  maddened 
him  more  than  ever.  A  bottle  stood  within  reach. 
He  seized  it  in  one  hand,  hurling  it  at  Jarvis'  head.  A 
heavy  glass  followed,  but,  blinded  by  his  rage,  Morton 
could  not  see  his  aim.  The  missiles  fell  on  either  side 
of  Jarvis,  smashing  on  the  floor  in  a  thousand  pieces. 

The  Inn  was  in  a  turmoil.  Shouts  and  cries  for  help 
rang  out.  Men  dodged,  shielding  themselves  behind 
tables,  running  across  to  the  bar  for  protection,  unable 
to1  get  to  the  door.  Morton  paid  no  heed  to  the  pro- 
prietor's orders  to  stop  and  get  out.  Again  and  again 
he  returned  to  the  attack.  Chairs,  other  bottles,  a  half 
dozen  glasses  followed  in  quick  succession,  accompa- 
nied with  oaths  screamed  from  his  foaming  lips 
stretched  wide  open.  It  would  have  been  a  delight  to 
Morton  to  kill  someone.  There  was  nothing  human 


204  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

about  him.  He  was  the  personification  of  brutal  ugli- 
ness unleashed.  He  muttered  threat  after  threat.  He 
pounded  the  air  with  fierce  gestures;  his  body  grew 
rigid ;  great  red  blotches  streaked  his  face. 

The  uproar  was  fearful,  the  clamor  of  breaking 
glass  and  flying  furniture  drowning  completely  the 
rumbling  noises  in  the  streets  outside. 

People  began  collecting  about  the  door,  hastening 
to  the  saloon,  believing  a  riot  was  imminent.  Peering 
in  the  windows,  they  caught  sight  of  the  infuriated 
man  holding  the  inmates  of  the  room  at  bay.  It  was 
a  scene  to  make  one's  blood  run  cold.  How  would 
the  exhibition  end?  Something  terrible  would  happen 
yet. 

In  the  very  midst  of  the  affray,  while  those  outside 
were  wondering  what  to  do,  Wilmarth  sauntered  down 
the  street.  He  was  taking  the  night  air,  comfortably 
smoking  a  fine  cigar,  gazing  up  at  the  stars,  his  counte- 
nance bland,  smiling.  It  was  his  custom  to  patronize 
the  Inn.  He  arrived  every  evening  promptly  at  ten 
o'clock,  taking  one  drink  of  whisky.  After  he  had 
looked  over  a  paper  or  two,  he  took  his  departure  with 
an  affable  "  Good-night  "  all  around. 

Now  he  stopped  still,  listening  a  moment  to  the 
hideous  sounds  issuing  from  the  saloon.  Instantly  he 
recognized  Morton's  guttural  voice.  He  turned  to- 
wards the  entrance.  The  men  outside  pressed  closer 
to  the  partly  open  door.  A  murmur  passed  through 
the  group.  Callister  was  the  first  one  who  saw  the 
agent  come  in.  He  whispered  to  Jarvis : 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  205 

"  Watch.  This  is  what  I  wanted  you  to  see.  Look 
at  Morton." 

Jarvis  had  not  long  to  wait.  Before  the  words  were 
fairly  spoken,  a  curious  thing  occurred.  Morton  stood 
with  his  back  to  the  door,  his  doubled  hand  raised 
threateningly.  About  him  was  strewn  broken  glass, 
splintered  furniture.  The  atmosphere  was  heavy  with 
the  whisky  he  had  spilled.  Suddenly  a  chill  ran 
through  him.  His  shoulders  stiffened.  He  paused, 
his  whole  attitude  cringing,  fear  stirring  in  his  face. 
No  one  spoke.  There  was  no  sound.  A  hush  fell 
over  the  place.  Wilmarth  closed  the  door  behind  him 
and  glanced  about  the  room.  From  every  corner, 
from  behind  any  place  that  offered  protection,  men's 
bodies  appeared.  The  proprietor,  emboldened  by  the 
sudden  quiet,  was  about  to  speak,  but  Wilmarth  shook 
his  head  warningly.  He  smiled  depreciatingly,  having 
the  air  of  a  man  who,  discouraged  with  his  attempts 
to  do  good,  still  continues  his  efforts  as  a  humanita- 
rian. 

He  came  around  from  the  door  towards  Morton,  but 
already  something  had  been  sent  across  the  room  to  the 
drunkard — some  danger  signal,  elusive,  intangible,  but 
sounding  its  warning.  The  fellow  quivered.  He 
turned,  cowering  before  the  agent,  watching  him  with 
terror-stricken  eyes,  drawing  one  long,  sharp  breath 
after  another.  He  was  like  a  conquered  brute  in  the 
presence  of  his  master.  He  no  longer  yelled;  the 
atrocious  threats  died  on  his  lips.  Not  a  word  as  yet 


206  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

had  come  from  Wilmarth;  no  words  were  necessary. 
Transfixed,  stupefied,  acting  as  though  he  had  awak- 
ened from  a  dream,  Morton  presently  advanced,  step 
by  step,  towards  his  subduer.  His  whole  being  shrank 
from  contact  with  the  agent,  yet  on  he  went,  nearer  and 
nearer,  treading  with  the  caution  of  a  nervous  animal. 

The  eyes  of  every  man  in  the  place  were  on  these  two 
figures  in  breathless  suspense.  They  forgot  them- 
selves, crawling  out  of  their  hiding  places,  utter  amaze- 
ment sitting  on  every  face.  Was  Wilmarth's  power 
resistless  ? 

The  minutes  went  by.  Every  man  waited.  The 
silence  was  profound.  Finally,  Morton  paused.  Wil- 
marth pointed  to  the  proprietor.  He  was  as  calm  and 
bland  as  ever. 

"  Apologize  for  this  disturbance  and  pay  for  the 
damage  you've  done,"  he  commanded. 

The  onlookers  could  hardly  believe  their  eyes.  Mor- 
ton, his  face  purple,  his  hair  matted  with  sweat,  his 
eyes  bloodshot,  muttered  his  apology.  He  spoke  like 
an  automatic  machine.  He  put  his  hand  in  his  pocket, 
and  when  he  had  counted  out  a  sum  of  money,  he 
handed  it  over  to  the  proprietor.  Then,  with  a  long 
breath,  hardly  able  to  walk,  he  obeyed  the  agent's  ges- 
ture, following  Wilmarth  out  into  the  night,  perplexed, 
bewildered,  but  conquered. 

To  the  watchers  of  this  scene  there  were  no  words 
for  what  had  transpired.  Something  had  taken  place 
under  their  very  gaze  that  bordered  closely  on  hypno- 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  207 

tism.  It  was  an  exhibition  that  not  one  of  them  would 
have  believed  on  hearsay.  It  created  a  tremendous 
sensation,  although  for  some  reason  no  one  cared  to 
speak  of  it. 

Jarvis  and  Callister  passed  out  of  the  Inn,  walking  a 
long  way  over  the  road  towards  home  before  either  one 
spoke.  In  spite  of  his  intense  disgust,  a  qualm  of 
something  very  like  pity  had  hold  of  Jarvis. 

"  Cal,  what  does  that  mean?  Poor  devil!  What 
does  it  mean  ?  "  he  demanded,  finally. 

Callister  replied  at  length :  "  It  works  out  logi- 
cally in  only  one  way.  I  have  studied  over  it  since  the 
first  time  I  saw  this  thing  happen.  Morton  hates  us. 
He  shows  that  plainly.  But  why?  No  reason  at  all, 
unless,  perhaps,  he  has  wronged  us.  The  knowledge 
of  wrong  done  to  another  often  causes  hatred.  Then, 
again,  why  has  he  gone  back  to  drinking?  Not  be- 
cause he  is  poor,  for  he  isn't.  He  has  plenty  of  money. 
To  drown  memories  that  haunt — perhaps.  Why  does 
he  fear  Wilmarth  so  intensely  that  it  is  the  dominant 
sensation  in  his  mind,  almost  an  hypnotic  influence? 
Because  Wilmarth  knows  something  against  Morton 
that  could  harm  him — perhaps.  How  does  Morton  get 
his  sudden  overabundance  of  money?  Paid — paid 
well  for  something — perhaps.  Piece  it  out,  Jar,  all 
out.  Go  back  to  that  last  morning  and  the  circum- 
stances of  Morton's  arrival  at  the  refinery.  It  all  fits 
wonderfully  with  what  follows,  and  it's  all  damnable." 

With  the  abruptness  of  a  blow,  understanding,  swift, 


208  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

terrible,  burst  upon  Jarvis.  It  was  inconceivable.  How 
were  such  business  methods  as  these  to  be  met,  how 
dealt  with?  It  was  crime,  nothing  short  of  crime, 
with  no  law  to  punish  the  criminals. 

"  My  God!  "  he  murmured.  And  Jarvis  walked  the 
rest  of  the  way  home  with  bent  head,  his  hands  clasped 
behind  his  back,  wondering,  thinking. 

But  for  every  plan  or  suggestion,  honest  and  above- 
board,  that  formulated  itself  in  his  thoughts,  there  was 
the  checkmate  of  dishonesty.  The  Flaremont  oilmen 
were  face  to  face  with  dealers  who,  without  a  second's 
hesitation,  would  stoop  to  crime,  determined  to  win  at 
any  cost.  Was  it  possible  an  honest  man  could  no 
longer  earn  a  living? 

"  I  won't  believe  it,  I  can't  believe  it,"  Jarvis  cried 
aloud.  Callister,  startled  out  of  his  own  reverie, 
stared  at  him,  but  said  nothing. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  209 


CHAPTER  XV. 

The  wedding  of  Gabrielle  Mason  and  Archibald 
Orton  was  set  for  the  third  of  June.  It  was  to  be  a 
great  affair.  In  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  Masons  had 
lost  their  money  and  that  the  well  lay  idle,  hundreds  of 
dollars'  worth  of  oil  going  to  waste  every  day,  the  girl 
planned  to  have  a  big  gathering  of  people,  with  a  cere- 
mony at  the  church  and  a  reception  afterward  at  the 
house. 

After  a  long  discussion  with  Orton,  Gabrielle  had  de- 
cided the  wedding  journey  should  extend  to  Alabama. 
Although  she  had  left  the  state  as  a  little  child,  she 
clung  to  certain  memories,  insisting  she  remembered 
the  house  where  they  had  lived,  the  beautiful  drives, 
the  huge  plantations,  even  some  of  her  playmates. 
Orton  left  all  arrangements  to  her,  as  was  his  habit. 
He  never  once  intruded  with  suggestions,  deferring 
always  to  her,  effacing  himself  as  much  as  possible.  In 
all  the  intimacies  of  his  courtship  he  preserved  the  same 
attitude  of  obedience  to  his  betrothed's  wishes,  invaria- 
bly smiling,  unfailingly  affable,  making  himself  almost 
indispensable  to  Mrs.  Mason,  anxious  to  win  every- 
one's esteem. 

He  had  rather  avoided  Callister,  hardly  seeing  him 

14 


210  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

from  one  month's  end  to  another.  In  fact,  Orton  never 
quite  recovered  from  the  impression  that  for  some 
reason  Callister  was  suspicious  of  him.  A  few  weeks 
before  his  marriage  he  had  fallen  in  with  the  electrician 
on  the  highway.  Although  neither  man  desired  it,  a 
long  walk  in  the  direction  of  Flaremont  ensued. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  Callister  was  distinctly  not  cor- 
dial, but  Orton  rose  to  the  occasion,  talking  volubly. 
He  told  amusing  stories,  related  experiences,  gave  cer- 
tain large  opinions  on  the  situation  of  the  oil  trade  in 
Texas,  presenting  his  side  effectively,  never  at  a  loss 
for  a  topic,  never  offending  with  what  he  said.  It  was 
evident  that  he  tried  to  produce  a  good  effect  on  the 
silent,  grave,  dreamy  man  by  his  side. 

But  while  Orton  gave  every  evidence  of  being  thor- 
oughly composed,  Callister,  watching  him  furtively, 
began  to  believe  Orton  was  nervous.  Brusquely  the 
impression  asserted  itself  that  this  stranger  was  playing 
some  game,  acting  a  part  which  he  never  for  a  second 
put  one  side;  a  trickery  resorted  to  for  protection  and 
self-advancement. 

As  the  walk  continued,  there  rose  before  Callister's 
eyes  a  vague  repetition  of  that  vision.  In  a  brief  lapse 
of  time  this  city-bred  man,  faultlessly  attired,  exqui- 
sitely mannered,  speaking  so  fluently  on  every  subject, 
was  transfigured  into  another  figure.  The  same  man, 
yet  not  the  same,  his  fine  ways  lost,  a  torrent  of  words 
issuing  from  his  throat,  turning  furiously  on  his  tracks, 
his  face  distorted  with  fear, — a  poor  creature  in  fine 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  211 

clothes,  torn,  bleeding,  disheveled,  distraught,  hunted 
down,  fleeing  from  some  terrible  calamity  that  pur- 
sued him  at  every  turn,  begging  protection  from 
Callister,  the  only  man  who  would  help.  The  mys- 
tery concerning  this  stranger  had  not  yet  revealed 
itself,  but  it  would,  it  would  after  Gabrielle  had  given 
herself  to  him, — his  Gabrielle,  with  her  wonderful 
beauty,  her  face  like  a  saint. 

All  at  once  it  seemed  to  Callister  that  by  a  supreme 
effort  of  his  will  he  could  penetrate  Orton's  secret, 
summoning  it  through  that  unnamed,  inexplicable  fac- 
ulty of  his  mind.  But  something  held  him  from  the 
attempt.  There  was  an  element  of  dread  in  the  mere 
thought.  He  was  afraid  of  what  he  would  discover. 

At  the  first  turning  in  the  road,  Callister  left  Orton, 
bidding  him  good-day  with  cold  politeness,  passing  on 
his  way  tremendously  relieved  to  be  by  himself. 

Nor  was  Callister  alone  in  his  distrust  of  this  new- 
comer. Orton  had  never  succeeded  in  winning  a  place 
for  himself  with  the  men  of  Flaremont.  Not  until  the 
wedding  invitations  were  sent  broadcast,  did  any  of  the 
masculine  element  have  a  good  word  to  say.  Then  he 
was  accepted  as  a  citizen  because  Gabrielle  was  so  im- 
mensely admired.  Flaremont  relegated  to  itself  a  cer- 
tain pride  in  possessing  a  girl  whose  fame  for  beauty 
spread  over  all  the  state.  Every  man  in  the  town  held 
himself  her  defender,  as  he  would  have  defended  his 
country  or  his  flag.  She  had  become  hedged  around 
with  a  kind  of  civic  loyalty.  She  belonged  to  Flare- 
mont, therefore  to  Flaremont  citizens. 


212  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

At  every  state  festival  for  years  Gabrielle  had  been 
given  a  prominent  part.  A  celebration  of  any  kind 
was  incomplete  unless  something  was  planned  to  in- 
clude her.  She  had  been  the  queen  of  beauty,  the  sym- 
bol of  freedom,  many  times  a  goddess  of  liberty.  She 
had  stood  for  the  state  of  Texas,  she  had  presented 
flowers  to  two  governors,  she  rode  in  a  chariot  at  every 
parade,  not  as  anything  in  particular,  but  because  she 
was  indissolubly  connected  with  Flaremont's  glory. 

There  had  been  intense  interest  in  her  affair  with 
Orton,  and  even  if  he  was  not  liked,  the  men  were  at 
least  just.  The  engagement  once  settled,  they  contin- 
ually assured  one  another  that  although  he  did  lord 
it  over  people,  perhaps,  everything  considered,  he  was 
a  good  match  for  Miss  Mason.  He  was  distinctly 
good-looking,  his  dark,  foreign  face  making  a  perfect 
contrast  to  her  delicate  coloring.  Then,  too,  he  was 
so  unimpeachably  correct  and  apparently  well-fixed 
financially. 

Gabrielle  deserved  a  gentleman,  and  here  was  one. 
By  the  time  the  third  of  June  arrived,  Flaremont 
thought  better  of  Orton  than  it  ever  had  before.  Its 
people  had  talked  themselves  into  standing  sponsor  for 
him,  and,  as  the  husband-elect  of  Gabrielle,  acceded 
to  him  a  position  of  honor. 

As  June  approached,  the  air  was  thick  with  rumors. 
The  occasion  was  talked  of  all  over  town.  It  was  said 
that  a  thousand  invitations  had  been  given  for  the  re- 
ception and  that  hundreds  of  dollars  would  be  required 
to  pay  the  bills. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  213 

Meanwhile  all  the  arrangements  were  completed. 
The  ceremony  was  to  take  place  at  the  Church  of  the 
Holy  Mother  at  two  o'clock  in  the  presence  of  about 
three  hundred  people,  as  many  as  the  church  would 
seat.  A  reception  would  follow,  lasting  from  three 
until  six.  Carpenters  had  been  busy  making  an  im- 
mense flooring  that  occupied  half  the  Mason  lot.  This, 
with  an  awning  stretched  overhead,  would  catch  the 
overflow  from  the  house.  The  bride  and  groom  would 
receive  the  guests  in  the  parlor,  near  a  side  door.  Out 
of  this  the  company  could  pass  after  greeting  the  hos- 
tess, going  directly  into  the  temporary  pavilion.  This 
would  save  crowding  and  give  ample  room  for  dancing. 
An  orchestra  of  six  pieces  had  been  engaged.  At 
seven  o'clock  the  bride  and  groom  were  to  take  the 
Overland,  going  East. 

Theodora  was  to  be  the  maid  of  honor.  There  were 
two  little  girls  who  would  serve  as  flower  maids,  car- 
rying baskets  of  roses  with  which  to  strew  the  church 
aisle  when  the  ceremony  was  over.  Randolph  Mason 
had  been  chosen  for  best  man.  The  mother  would  give 
the  bride  away. 

Jarvis,  Lawler,  Hale  and  Callister  would  seat  peo- 
ple at  the  church,  acting  as  ushers.  As  a  last  touch  to 
an  elegant  affair,  a  caterer  had  been  engaged  from  out 
of  town,  and  Orton  had  politely  asked  permission  to 
present  the  champagne. 

Two  weeks  before  the  great  day,  Gabrielle  kept  her- 
self very  secluded,  believing  it  altogether  the  thing  to 


214  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

assume  a  bearing  of  extreme  modesty.  When  anyone 
referred  to  the  nearness  of  the  time  she  lowered  her 
eyelids  affectedly,  wishing  a  blush  might  be  managed 
as  easily  as  a  smile.  She  had  worked  day  and  night 
on  her  trousseau,  but  left  her  mother  to  attend  to  every- 
thing else. 

At  last  the  third  of  June  arrived.  Gabrielle  had 
packed  all  her  trunks.  Mrs.  Mason  had  completed  the 
final  details.  Both  women  were  thoroughly  tired  out. 
The  pavilion  was  very  artistic.  The  posts  supporting 
the  awning  were  wound  with  vines  and  wild  flowers; 
great  jars  of  green  stood  in  the  corners;  around  the 
floor  were  rows  of  chairs  rented  from  different  halls, 
so  arranged  as  to  leave  a  large  space  clear  for  the 
dancers.  The  house  was  a  bower  of  flowers.  Young 
Mason  had  worked  himself  half  sick  to  make  the  place 
beautiful.  He  had  gone  into-  it  with  the  frenzy  of 
doing  something  to  take  up  his  mind.  Ever  since  the 
explosion  he  had  been  wretchedly  unhappy.  The  boy 
had  brooded  over  the  affair  during  the  long  hours 
when,  helpless  from  the  burns  on  his  feet,  he  had  been 
left  alone  and  idle.  At  first  the  calamity  had  numbed 
him.  After  all  those  months  of  preparation  and  plan- 
ning and  waiting,  to  have  annihilation  swoop  over  them 
all  in  a  minute's  time  had  dazed  him.  It  was  incom- 
prehensible. They  had  been  crushed  by  the  one  thing 
they  had  looked  to  for  reimbursement,  salvation.  He 
was  beside  himself  with  grief. 

But  after  a  time,  when  familiarity  with  the  fact  had 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  215 

made  that  first  numbness  pass  off,  a  sense  of  rage  took 
its  place.  There  was  some  mystery  connected  with  that 
destruction,  something  that  needed  explaining.  Was 
it  possible  the  thing  had  been  cooked  up  ?  Deliberately 
planned  by  the  same  one  who  had  cut  prices  and  in- 
creased rates  ?  Instantly,  without  the  faintest  proof  or 
the  least  reason,  Randolph  set  the  trouble  at  Eberlie's 
door.  He  was  the  railroad's  man;  the  railroad  was 
the  tool  of  those  Eastern  oilmen,  those  controllers  of 
the  trust  that  had  been  trying  in  every  possible  way  to 
crowd  out  the  individual  drillers  and  refiners.  He  re- 
called every  accident  that  had  occurred  in  the  district. 
He  remembered  the  change  in  the  men ;  he  saw  the  al- 
tered state  of  Flaremont;  everything  pointed  to  one 
fact. 

The  boy's  decision  was  made,  his  mind  set.  The 
whole  thing  was  a  scheme,  a  plan.  No  one  outside  the 
trust  was  to  be  allowed  a  chance.  There  was  no  pres- 
ent, no  future.  Wrath  seized  him.  He  cried  from 
sheer  anger.  The  helplessness  of  them  all  was  mad- 
dening. How  the  trust  fellows  must  have  laughed 
in  their  sleeves  at  the  ambitions  of  those  six  poor  men, 
the  six  forming  the  Flaremont  Independent  Refiners 
Company!  How  they  gibed  at  anyone  who  sought 
an  independent  business! 

The  more  Randolph  reflected,  the  more  malevolent  he 
grew.  He  no  longer  wept;  he  clenched  his  teeth  and 
cursed.  They  had  won  now,  but  wait.  He,  for  one, 
wouldn't  sit  silent  and  be  the  butt  for  those  devils' 


216  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

amusement.  He  would  square  accounts  some  time — 
square  'em  any  way  he  could. 

Bit  by  bit,  the  boy  lost  all  his  cheeriness  and  gentle- 
ness. He  became  moody,  silent,  full  of  the  anger  of 
defeat  and  the  desire  for  retaliation.  But  he  kept  the 
trouble  to  himself,  working  desperately  at  anything  that 
came  to  hand,  trying  to  evade  his  mother's  questions. 
He  wouldn't  drag  her  into  what  he  was  planning. 

Ordinarily,  it  would  have  taken  a  dozen  men  to  have 
decorated  the  house  as  he  did  it.  Every  wall  on  the 
first  floor  was  hung  with  vines  and  flowers.  He  re- 
fused all  help,  and  the  night  before  the  wedding  he  did 
not  stop  at  all.  At  daybreak,  his  mother,  very  uneasy, 
begged  him  to  go  to  bed.  He  declared  angrily,  "  It 
wasn't  work,  but  ridicule,  that  hurt  him."  Mrs.  Mason 
looked  at  him  curiously,  wise  enough  not  to  insist  on 
her  request,  but  worried,  wondering  what  had  changed 
him  so, — a  vague  fear  seizing  hold  of  her  heart. 

For  the  wedding  day,  at  least,  Flaremont  awoke 
again.  Before  breakfast  a  group  of  children  had 
gathered  outside  the  house,  staring  in  at  the  open  doors 
and  windows,  laughing,  talking,  pointing,  waiting  to 
see  the  bride.  As  early  as  nine  o'clock  the  caterers 
were  at  work.  A  large  truck  backed  up  at  the  side 
door.  Gallon  cans  of  ice-cream,  immense  boxes  of 
cakes,  great  jars  filled  with  salad,  barrels  of  dishes, 
were  lifted  out,  carried  into  the  kitchen,  or  set  in  the 
back  yard.  The  children  gathered  closer,  blinking 
their  eyes,  sniffing  the  air,  licking  their  lips.  All  at 
once  their  stomachs  ached  for  food. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  217 

Horses  and  carriages  were  dashing  about  the 
streets.  The  one  liveryman  in  Flaremont  had  taken 
a  hundred  more  orders  than  he  could  possibly  fill.  He 
arranged  a  schedule,  printing  hours  for  certain  de- 
partures, allowing  only  time  enough  for  his  carriages 
to  be  rushed  madly  to  and  fro  from  the  houses  to  the 
church.  He  began  calling  for  his  customers  at  eleven 
o'clock.  By  twelve  he  was  in  a  terrible  state,  standing 
at  the  barn-door,  watching  his  teams  pass  and  repass, 
referring  continually  to  the  schedule  he  held  in  his  hand, 
shouting  directions  to  his  drivers,  who  leaned  forward 
on  their  seats  to  catch  his  words.  He  was  coatless, 
collarless  and  hatless.  At  every  moment  he  grew 
warmer. 

An  hour  before  the  time  set  for  the  ceremony,  the 
church  on  the  hill  was  packed.  Lawler  and  Hale, 
wearing  their  Prince  Albert  suits  purchased  in  honor 
of  the  refinery,  with  huge  boutonnieres  consisting  of 
a  white  rose  surrounded  by  green  ferns  in  the  left 
buttonhole,  and  white  kid  gloves,  were  very  gallant. 
Before  escorting  a  lady  down  the  aisle,  each  man 
bowed  profoundly,  at  the  same  moment  offering  his 
arm.  Their  faces  were  serious,  even  funereal.  They 
trod  softly. 

The  guests  were  all  in  their  Sunday  clothes.  They 
sat  up  very  stiff,  looking  stately  and  uncomfortable. 
Not  a  word  was  spoken.  It  was  deeply  impressive. 
Presently  the  organist  took  his  seat,  and  two  altar 
boys  began  lighting  the  candles.  A  ripple  of  excite- 


218  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

ment  passed  over  the  waiting  crowd  when  Mrs.  Mason 
on  Jarvis'  arm  came  clown  the  aisle,  seating  herself  in 
the  first  pew.  After  what  seemed  an  interminable 
wait  the  organist  swung  into  a  wedding-march.  A 
whisper  of  "Here  they  come!"  passed  from  mouth 
to  mouth.  There  was  a  craning  of  necks.  Some  of 
the  ladies  peered  at  Mrs.  Mason,  wondering  whether 
she  would  weep.  Up  in  front  Father  Beauvais,  very 
gentle,  looking  like  a  patient  little  saint  in  his  white 
surplice,  waited  for  Gabrielle.  By  his  side  was  the 
groom. 

Never  had  Orton  looked  so  well.  It  had  been  ru- 
mored that  his  wedding-suit  came  from  New  York, 
and,  after  seeing  it,  the  gossip  could  be  believed.  The 
light  trousers,  Prince  Albert  coat,  smart  cravat,  im- 
maculate linen,  patent  leather  shoes,  white  bouton- 
niere,  were  the  acme  of  style,  taste  and  perfection. 
Never  had  such  clothes  been  seen  in  the  town.  His 
face  was  very  pale,  but  he  smiled  continually  and 
every  move  was  a  marvel  of  city-bred  grace. 

His  appearance  caused  a  murmur  of  satisfaction 
that  deepened  into  an  exclamation  of  delight  as  the 
wedding-party  approached. 

Theodora,  strikingly  pretty,  came  first.  She  was 
all  in  white,  carrying  white  roses,  wearing  a  big  white 
hat.  Freshness  and  peace  seemed  somehow  always  to 
be  attached  to  her.  They  emanated  from  her  very 
garments  like  a  subtle  perfume. 

Following,  walked  two  little  girls  in  white  frocks 
with  pink  sashes  and  pink  hats. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  219 

Then  came  the  bride  on  Randolph's  arm.  The 
flimsy  veil  covered  her  entire  figure,  but  it  emphasized 
rather  than  hid  her  brilliancy.  She  walked  slowly, 
carrying  herself  with  a  rigid  hauteur,  conscious  of  her 
beauty  that  was  not  to  be  denied.  Her  loveliness  al- 
most took  one's  breath  away. 

The  congregation  arose,  standing  mutely  staring 
while  the  two  went  through  the  ceremony  with  per- 
fect ease.  There  was  no  trace  of  embarrassment,  no 
sign  of  uncertainty.  When  Mrs.  Mason  advanced  to 
give  her  daughter  away,  Gabrielle  leaned  forward  and 
kissed  her  mother  with  a  studied  effort  at  creating  a 
pretty  scene.  It  made  a  big  impression.  Half  a 
dozen  women  pulled  out  their  handkerchiefs.  Glances 
of  approbation  were  exchanged  everywhere. 

The  ceremony  ended  before  people  half  expected  it. 
They  were  bewildered  at  seeing  the  pair  turn,  advanc- 
ing arm  in  arm,  the  flower  maidens  walking  back- 
wards, strewing  roses  in  the  path  of  the  newly-mar- 
ried couple.  Gabrielle's  veil  was  thrust  away  from 
her  face  now.  She  exchanged  bright  glances  with 
some  of  her  best-known  friends. 

The  church  was  slow  in  emptying.  When  the  guests 
emerged  from  the  door,  the  lack  of  carriages  became 
painfully  evident.  It  was  one  thing  to  get  there  when 
the  whole  morning  was  before  them ;  another  thing  to 
get  to  a  reception  when  no  one  wanted  to  lose  a  second. 

There  were  twenty  persons  for  each  place  in  each 
vehicle.  For  a  few  minutes  a  veritable  riot  seemed 


220  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

imminent.  Finally,  the  men  all  decided  to  walk,  leav- 
ing the  ladies  to  follow  as  best  they  could.  Every- 
where were  to  be  heard  expressions  of  wrath  against 
the  liveryman.  Half  the  afternoon  nothing  else  was 
talked  of. 

Jarvis,  Callister  and  Theodora  rode  to  the  house 
together.  Tears  were  in  the  girl's  eyes.  "  I  always 
am  sad  at  a  wedding.  Somehow,  I  can't  help  crying, 
almost  as  if  it  were  a  funeral,"  she  said.  "  How 
beautiful  Gabrielle  looks  as  a  bride !  "  she  added,  sud- 
denly. 

Callister's  face  was  haggard.  Every  moment  of  the 
day  had  been  agony  to  him.  One  phrase  dinged  cease- 
lessly through  his  brain,  "  She's  lost  to  you  now ;  lost 
to  you  now." 

But  Jarvis'  eyes  were  bright  with  happiness.  He 
could  not  take  his  glance  from  Theo.  It  was  one  of 
those  times  when  she  held  complete  hold  of  him.  His 
thoughts  went  back  to  the  first  day  he  had  come  up 
this  hill,  bringing  her,  then  a  little  girl  of  six,  to  a 
shelter  until  he  could  make  a  home  for  them  both. 
He  went  over  the  years  that  followed.  He  had  known 
her  so  intimately  from  the  time  of  her  childhood, 
until  now  when  she  had  come  to  him  in  the  full  glory 
of  a  perfect  young  womanhood.  Gradual  as  the  trans- 
formation had  been,  it  startled  him.  He  saw  her  per- 
fections, her  wonderful  charm,  and  was  exasperated  by 
his  own  crudeness,  his  lack  of  that  refinement  that  was 
so  strong  a  characteristic  in  Theodora.  From  the 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  221 

moment  of  her  passing  the  door  into'  the  home  he  had 
made  for  her,  his  life  was  like  a  dream,  delicious  be- 
yond words,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  his  peace  of  mind 
was  gone.  This  man,  who  had  had  so  little  love  in 
his  life,  fought  a  daily  battle  against  the  element  that 
clamored  and  shouted  for  recognition.  Every  hour 
it  g'rew  harder  to  keep  quiet.  Again  and  again  he  re- 
solved never  to  speak  of  the  falseness  of  their  position, 
only  to  realize  the  more  plainly  his  constant  danger 
of  letting  out  the  secret  before  he  was  aware  what  he 
did.  He  had  only  to  close  his  eyes  to  call  up  a  picture 
that  held  him  entranced,  a  veritable  idyl  that  showed 
her  as  belonging  to  him. 

Over  and  over  he  forced  back  the  words  that  choked 
him,  arguing  his  right  to  speak  so  soon.  It  would 
be  cruel  to  wreck  the  beginning  of  her  freedom  with 
such  a  violent  explanation.  She  might  fill  his  life,  oc- 
cupying every  corner  of  his  heart  and  his  mind,  but 
with  her  it  was  different.  She  had  been  brought  up 
believing  herself  simply  his  sister ;  the  idea  of  anything 
closer  might  be  distasteful  to  her.  It  was  much  bet- 
ter to  keep  his  secret  to  himself,  intoxicated  with  his 
great  love,  having  her  always  about  him  where  he 
could  see  her  and  watch  her,  than  to  run  any  risks. 

But  in  his  innermost  self,  his  joy  amounted  almost 
to  anguish.  He  was  tempted  continually  to  shout 
aloud  of  this  new-found  happiness.  At  times  he  could 
hardly  resist.  Now  the  sight  of  this  wedding  had 
stirred  him  profoundly,  setting  his  imagination  to 


222  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

work.  All  during  that  ride  to  the  Masons'  home  he 
looked  at  Theo  with  an  expression  in  his  eyes  she  had 
never  seen  before.  He  was  wildly  happy  to  have  her 
so  near  him,  believing  the  time  was  nearly  ripe  when 
he  could  tell  her  the  truth,  put  away  all  barriers,  see- 
ing invisible  signs  that  she,  too,  cared,  that  willingly 
she  would  become  a  part  of  his  life. 

He  lived  through  all  the  afternoon  in  a  half  dream, 
seeing  that  sweetness  of  existence,  all  the  happiness 
the  earth  held  for  him,  coming  within  his  grasp.  His 
heart  strained  with  an  immense  tenderness.  He  loved 
Theodora ;  loved  her  so  passionately,  so  intensely,  that 
the  love  became  part  of  himself. 

Meanwhile  there  was  a  great  concourse  of  people 
arriving  at  the  recqDtion.  The  pavilion  filled  up  rap- 
idly; vehicles  dashed  up,  stopping  only  long  enough 
to  unload,  then  off  again  for  another  party.  The 
front  yard  was  a  surging  mass,  the  house  overflowed. 

But  the  greatest  gaiety  was  in  the  pavilion.  Here 
the  musicians  had  taken  their  places,  playing  dance 
after  dance.  Groups  had  settled  themselves  on  the 
rows  of  chairs,  the  women's  dresses  making  a  great 
mixture  of  colors.  There  were  no  programs,  but 
some  of  the  young  men,  making  engagements  ahead, 
wrote  names  on  their  cuffs.  One  chap,  a  regular 
josher,  printed  the  names  of  his  partners  in  great  let- 
ters on  his  shirt-front,  calling  attention  to  it  with  ex- 
aggerated gestures.  It  had  a  great  success.  Bursts 
of  laughter  arose  whenever  he  rushed  about  to  secure 
his  next  girl. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  223 

Theodora  left  the  house  at  sound  of  the  music.  Her 
cheeks  were  flushed,  her  eyes  shone  with  pleasure.  It 
was  her  first  real  party,  and  a  few  seconds  after  her  ap- 
pearance on  the  floor  she  was  surrounded  by  a  group 
of  men.  Lawler  claimed  three  dances.  Hale  secured 
two,  Jarvis,  standing  out  on  the  lawn,  caught  his 
breath,  not  able  to  keep  his  eyes  away  from  her.  The 
added  excitement  made  her  more  beautiful  than  he 
had  ever  seen  her.  The  sound  of  her  laughter  came 
to  him  from  time  to  time,  a  veritable  note  of  com- 
plete happiness.  She  danced  every  dance  through 
from  beginning  to  end,  never  seeming  to  tire,  every 
motion  filled  with  infinite  grace.  Somehow,  she  took 
on  something  of  the  childish  look  of  long  ago.  Jarvis 
did  not  have  to  close  his  eyes  to  see  again  the  fragile, 
dainty,  exquisite  little  creature  who  had  sat  high  on 
the  wagon  seat  next  to  him,  thrusting  her  two  hands 
in  his  pockets,  begging  to  hold  the  reins. 

Everybody  was  having  a  good  time.  The  babel  of 
noises  rose  from  a  hum  to  a  clamor,  all  sense  of  timid- 
ity gone.  Two  huge  bowls  of  champagne  punch  had 
been  brought  in  for  the  dancers.  The  couples  swarmed 
up  to  them,  drinking  the  bride's  health,  turning  gal- 
lantly as  they  pledged  one  another.  The  gaiety  in- 
creased. A  roar  of  talk  and  laughter  ascended  from 
the  house,  the  lawn,  the  pavilion.  Finally,  at  an  inter- 
val between  two  dances,  Hale  volunteered  a  song. 
"  What's  a  wedding  without  singing?  "  he  vociferated, 
dramatically. 


224  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

Instantly  there  came  the  demand  for  silence.  It 
was  to  be  a  comic  song,  Hale  announced,  assuming  a 
pose,  screwing  up  his  face.  Some  of  the  ladies  began 
to  laugh  at  once.  A  thunder  of  applause  came  from 
the  men. 

Hale  prided  himself  on  his  singing.  No  matter  how 
loud  he  trumpeted  nor  how  long  he  hung  on  notes,  his 
voice  never  cracked.  His  wind  was  solid,  his  lungs  a 
regular  pair  of  bellows.  Once  between  verses  he 
thumped  himself  on  the  chest  to  show  how  powerful 
it  was. 

No  one  knew  the  song,  but  after  the  fifth  stanza  half 
the  guests  joined  in  the  chorus,  the  ladies  throwing 
back  their  heads,  raising  their  eyes  heavenward,  the 
men  looking  straight  before  them,  blinking,  frowning 
fiercely,  the  whole  party  carried  away  by  the  time  and 
the  tune. 

As  soon  as  Hale  finished,  delighted  with  his  own 
success,  he  shoved  Lawler  forward,  urging  him  to 
"  tune  up."  Lawler  shook  his  head  violently.  He 
didn't  intend  making  a  spectacle  of  himself.  But  shouts 
of  encouragement  rang  out.  Finally  he  gave  in,  clear- 
ing his  throat  nervously,  his  face  very  red. 

In  a  deep  voice  he  began  "  The  Two  Grenadiers." 
As  he  worked  into  the  spirit  of  the  thing,  the  words 
poured  out  like  a  tempest.  It  was  a  very  martial  per- 
formance. He  was  highly  complimented  at  the  end. 
Then,  after  much  urging,  he  gave  a  ballad  with  great 
effect,  dwelling  on  certain  notes,  his  voice  trembling 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  225 

on  affecting  words  until  the  song  became  as  lamentable 
as  a  dirge.  Some  of  the  ladies  were  reduced  to  tears. 
But  one  old  man,  who  in  his  youth  had  been  a  bari- 
tone in  a  church  choir,  sniffed  the  air,  making  some 
very  cutting  remarks  audibly. 

The  accusation  fell  on  Hale  like  a  blow,  and 
promptly  he  swelled  with  resentment;  his  friend  had 
been  insulted.  That  could  not  pass  with  impunity  in 
his  presence.  An  angry  disturbance  threatened. 

It  was  Lawler  himself  who  pacified  his  enraged 
friend,  while  mutual  acquaintances  led  the  old  bari- 
tone aside,  dumb  and  sulky.  But  the  singing  was 
broken  up,  and  it  took  several  minutes  before  quiet 
was  restored  and  gaiety  asserted  itself. 

Just  as  the  leader  of  the  musicians  proclaimed, 
"  Take  partners  for  the  Lancers,"  a  procession  of 
waiters  appeared,  loaded  clown  with  plates  and  nap- 
kins. There  were  cries  of 

"  Refreshments." 

"  Supper,  by  Jove!  " 

"  Where's  my  partner  ?  " 

"  Oh,  dear,  our  chairs  are  taken.  "  Where  shall  we 
go?" 

"  Come  on,  come  on ;  let's  all  get  together." 

"The  lawn's  the  place;  if  you  slop  there  it  won't 
matter.  Hurry  up.  Come  on,  come  on!  " 

There  was  a  wild  scramble  for  seats.  All  thought 
of  the  dance  was  forgotten.  Peals  of  laughter  rang 
out.  Conversation  was  carried  on  at  the  top  of  the 


15 


226  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

lungs.  There  was  a  veritable  sensation  when  two 
mammoth  cakes,  frosted  in  white,  very  ornate,  very 
magnificent,  towering  in  the  air  like  miniature  tem- 
ples, were  brought  in  on  a  board  carried  by  two  men, 
and  placed  in  the  center  of  the  pavilion.  Presently  Ga- 
brielle,  amid  shouts  and  cheers,  made  her  appearance, 
taking  up  her  place  before  the  giant  "  bride's  cake." 
Orton  gave  her  a  knife.  He  was  greeting  people  right 
and  left,  the  smile  of  affability  still  on  his  face,  his 
ease  of  manner  never  deserting  him. 

By  a  curious  coincidence  Callister  found  himself 
beside  Gabrielle  as  she  lifted  up  the  first  slice  she  had 
cut.  With  a  slow  grace  she  held  the  cake  out  to  him. 
All  color  fled  from  his  face.  For  the  moment  he  saw 
nothing  distinctly  except  the  girl  he  had  lost,  the  one 
woman  he  had  loved.  He  bowed  to  her,  speechless, 
his  heart  giving  a  bound  to  his  throat,  his  hands 
trembling.  Orton,  with  a  punctilious  elegance,  gave 
his  piece  to  Theodora.  Promptly  she  broke  it  in  two, 
dividing  it  with  Jarvis,  whom  she  beckoned  to  her 
from  across  the  room. 

By  this  time  everyone  was  eating,  very  much  at 
home,  keeping  up  a  continual  clatter,  all  the  guests 
showing  a  good  appetite.  There  was  an  almost  deaf- 
ening roar  at  the  temporary  pavilion.  This  place  had 
been  the  liveliest  from  the  very  beginning.  Lawler 
and  Hale  were  having  great  sport  with  half  a  dozen 
ladies,  playing  a  regular  game,  which  was  very  amus- 
ing. The  ladies  would  close  their  eyes.  Silently 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  227 

the  two  men  would  change  places,  standing  with  their 
backs  to  the  little  group.  On  a  signal  the  ladies  would 
look  up,  saying  immediately  which  was  Lawler,  which 
Hale.  Their  similarity  of  appearance  in  the  Prince 
Albert  suits  was  wonderfully  confusing.  This  per- 
formance was  repeated  again  and  again.  Shouts  of 
laughter  followed  each  experiment. 

Callister,  after  the  cake  episode,  had  withdrawn, 
going  slowly  into  the  house  to  make  his  adieus  to  Mrs. 
Mason.  He  could  not  stand  any  more.  All  day  long 
he  had  struggled  against  his  unhappiness  until  now 
his  endurance  had  reached  the  limit.  He  shook  hands 
with  his  hostess,  pleading  some  necessary  work  that 
demanded  his  presence  at  the  laboratory. 

He  passed  out,  escaping  observation,  walking  home 
slowly,  glad  to  get  away  from  the  boisterous  hilarity. 
The  country  spread  out  about  him  in  a  gray  im- 
mensity, assuming  a  bluish  tinge  near  the  horizon. 
The  sun  was  sinking  beneath  a  great  copper-colored 
cloud,  fringed  on  all  the  edges  with  gold  and  crimson. 
Overhead  the  brilliant  blue  sky,  cloudless,  perfect, 
housed  in  the  world  with  its  transparent  dome.  As 
was  always  the  case  with  Callister,  the  silence  and  the 
solitude  soothed  him.  A  hush  was  over  the  land,  the 
spirit  of  benediction  fell  from  the  advancing  night. 

He  sat  down  near  the  edge  of  the  porch,  looking  off 
westward,  watching  the  bright  red  of  the  afterglow 
melt  into  the  grays  of  advancing  darkness.  Before 
the  majestic  scene  of  earth  and  sky,  the  worries  and 


228  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

turmoils  of  mankind  dwindled  into  a  petty  insignifi- 
cance. He  forgot  his  own  discontents,  his  unrests,  his 
heartaches.  In  the  presence  of  nature's  colossal  forces 
and  the  serene  beauty  of  the  world,  Callister  touched 
the  pinnacle  of  mystical  revelation.  For  an  instant 
he  caught  at  the  explanation  of  certain  enigmas,  all 
but  grasping  the  true  significance  of  creation  itself. 
The  sun  sank.  The  day  ended.  Across  the  hills 
and  valleys  came  the  harsh  shriek  of  a  whistle.  It 
was  the  seven  o'clock  train  on  its  way  East;  the  train 
that  was  bearing  her  away  from  him,  carrying  her 
out  into  the  world  with  that  other,  the  one  who  had 
become  her  husband,  by  her  side.  Through  the  still- 
ness it  rushed  on  its  way,  breaking  the  harmony  of  the 
night  with  its  discordant  clamor,  making  the  earth 
quiver  with  the  shock  of  its  frantic  progress.  But 
scarcely  had  the  noise  of  the  engine  lapsed  into  a  mur- 
mur when  Callister's  attention  was  caught  by  the  sharp 
sound  of  approaching  footsteps.  He  arose  immedi- 
ately, uttering  an  exclamation  of  surprise.  It  was 
Randolph  Mason,  standing  before  him,  leaning  on  his 
bicycle,  breathless,  covered  from  head  to  foot  with 
dust,  the  sweat  pouring  off  him, 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  229 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

Something  was  the  matter.  Callister  knew  at  a 
glance  that  the  boy  had  come  in  hot  haste  from  the 
train  to  the  house,  stopping  for  nothing.  He  was  in 
his  wedding-clothes,  the  white  boutonniere  in  his  but- 
tonhole, his  patent  leather  shoes  gray  with  dust. 

Callister,  looking  closely  at  the  boy,  saw  that  he  had 
aged  suddenly.  Physically  and  mentally,  all  in  a  short 
time,  he  was  changed  totally.  His  expression  of  ex- 
treme friendliness,  that  sometimes  bordered  closely  on 
sweetness,  was  gone  from  his  face.  There  was  some- 
thing hard  in  his  eyes.  He  was  very  pale,  his  shoulders 
stooped. 

"  What  is  it,  my  boy?  Sit  down  and  tell  me  what's 
happened,"  said  Callister,  gently,  showing  Randolph 
into  a  chair. 

He  told  his  story  in  a  tremulous  voice,  swift  bursts 
of  anger  giving  place  to  sudden  periods  of  intense 
emotion. 

"  It's  something  I  heard.  It  wasn't  intended  for 
my  ears,  not  at  all.  Oh,  no.  Those  things  aren't 
meant  for  us  to  hear,  only  for  the  agents  of  that 
damned  trust  company.  Such  things  are  probably 
called  inside  history.  We  don't  know  inside  history." 


230  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

Callister  turned  his  grave,  calm  face  towards  the 
excited  boy,  his  dark  eyes  fixed  on  him  attentively. 

"  Do  you  know  how  those  Eastern  men  can  afford  to 
ship  with  tariffs  as  high  as  they  are  ?  Rebates, — that's 
how.  Did  you  know  that  ?  They  only  pretend  to  pay 
the  prices  that  we're  socked  with.  They  do  pay,  but 
the  money  comes  back  to  them, — comes  back  so  big 
that  their  oil  goes  over  the  road  for  less  than  the  ex- 
pense of  hauling  the  tank-cars.  Now,  what  do  you 
make  of  that?" 

For  an  instant  Callister's  glance  left  Randolph's 
face.  He  paused  with  perplexity.  In  a  flash  a  thou- 
sand half-understood  incidents  cleared  in  his  mind. 

"My  boy,  you  are  sure  of  what  you're  saying?" 
he  asked,  finally. 

"  Sure.  Why,  Mr.  Callister,  I  heard — heard  Eber- 
lie  tell  Wilmarth.  It  was  while  we  stood  down  there 
at  the  station,  waiting  for  the  train.  Something  was 
forgotten.  A  box  my  sister  wanted  checked  was  left 
in  the  baggage-room.  I  went  to  fix  the  matter  right. 
The  place  where  the  trunks  were  was  half  dark.  The 
baggageman  and  I  were  hauling  over  things,  looking 
for  what  we  wanted.  Suddenly,  just  outside  the  door, 
two  men  stopped  and  began  to  talk.  I  looked  up. 
One  was  Eberlie ;  the  other,  Wilmarth.  They  did  not 
see  me.  They  were  talking  over  rates.  Wilmarth  was 
saying  that  some  of  the  Eastern  roads  were  practically 
paying  the  trust  money  for  the  privilege  of  hauling 
their  oil.  That  made  me  listen.  Eberlie  was  very 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

serious.  He  said  the  X.  &  Y.  couldn't  do  that,  their 
business  wouldn't  justify  it;  but  they  were  prepared 
to  increase  the  rebate.  Rebate,  Mr.  Callister,  you 
hear  that?  Listen  to  the  rest.  Wilmarth  demanded 
64^2  cents  a  barrel,  making  the  rate  80  cents  net. 
Eberlie  agreed  at  once.  '  As  long  as  we  keep  the 
tariff  at  $1.45  the  independents  can't  ship,'  he  said. 
'  And  you'll  not  change  that,'  said  Wilmarth,  sharply. 
'  Certainly  not,'  said  Eberlie.  Just  then  the  train  whis- 
tled. I  had  to  rush  out  to  give  Gabrielle  the  extra 
check.  But  I  hardly  knew  what  I  was  doing.  It  seemed 
as  though  I  had  gone  crazy.  Think  of  the  knavery 
of  that.  Who  would  believe  it  ?  " 

The  boy  arose  to  his  feet.  He  was  trembling  vio- 
lently; his  voice  was  husky.  All  anger  had  left  him, 
giving  place  to  discouragement,  utter  unhappiness. 

"  Whom  else  have  you  told  this  to?  "  asked  Cal- 
lister, after  a  pause. 

"  No  one.  I  couldn't  tell  mother.  We  have  run 
into  debt  for  the  wedding.  It  wouldn't  do  to  frighten 
her  with  this  story.  She  is  always  so  hopeful  that 
things  will  be  better.  This  would  show  her  just  how 
we  stand,  how  utterly  powerless  we  are.  Mr.  Jarvis 
was  out.  I  rode  straight  here  to  you  after  I  had 
stopped  there." 

The  drama  was  continuing.  The  curtain  was  being 
rung  up  on  the  second  act, — an  act  more  serious  than 
the  one  that  had  taken  place.  For  when  this  new  situ- 
ation became  known,  what  would  happen  ?  The  f oun- 


232  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

dation  had  loosened  under  their  feet.  To  sit  idle 
meant  the  collapse  of  the  Texas  oil  trade.  Indepen- 
dent careers  would  be  shut  out  to  any  man,  no  matter 
how  honest  and  upright  he  might  be.  The  continuance 
of  such  oppression,  such  flagrant  injustice  as  this, 
would  end  in  striking  food  from  the  mouths  of  the 
hungry,  wrecking  whole  families,  ruining  the  progress 
of  a  state,  aiming  a  blow  at  the  very  liberty  of  the  na- 
tion. What  right  had  any  man  to  preach  moderation 
when  issues  fraught  with  such  monumental  catastro- 
phe were  at  stake;  when,  as  Lawler  had  said,  fair 
means  had  failed  and  violence  must  be  met  by  vio- 
lence? Moreover,  this  was  no  isolated  case.  Callister 
knew  that  all  over  the  country  one  trust  after  another 
was  eating  up  the  smaller  enterprises,  swallowing 
whole  whatever  came  in  the  way,  plundering  when- 
ever the  opportunity  permitted,  maiming,  destroying, 
killing,  if  necessary  for  their  own  advancement. 

Callister  paced  up  and  down  the  porch,  his  head 
bowed,  trying  in  an  excess  of  prudence  to  think  over 
every  phase  of  the  affair  before  he  would  commit  him- 
self. Revolution  itself  might  hinge  on  a  hasty  de- 
cision, for  they  were  face  to  face  with  a  dangerous  sit- 
uation. When  he  finally  stopped  in  his  tramp,  he  put 
his  hands  on  Randolph's  shoulders,  looking  him 
squarely  in  the  face. 

"  My  boy,"  he  began,  gently,  with  no  show  of  anger 
or  sign  of  impatience,  "  there  are  many  things  that 
come  up  in  this  world  which  none  of  us  can  under- 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  233 

stand.  There  are  little  things  that  seem  unfair,  un- 
kind; larger  happenings  that  in  their  unfairness  and 
injustice  we  cannot  follow  the  trend  of  at  all.  There 
are  gigantic  affairs,  like  wars,  where  great  forces  rend 
each  other,  working  out  their  differences  with  conten- 
tion and  malevolence,  crushing  one  another  with  no 
compunction,  witnessing  the  most  terrible  suffering 
with  unruffled  calm,  disturbed  by  nothing  so  long  as 
the  outcome  is  secured. 

"  But  in  all  these  vast  struggles,  dreadful  as  they 
seem,  there  is  a  purpose — a  purpose  fraught  with  a 
mighty  good.  Nothing  succeeds  in  the  end  but  the 
good.  Everything  works  together  for  ultimate  good. 
We  cannot  follow  out  those  workings  sometimes,  but 
our  short-sightedness  is  no  proof  that  God  has  for- 
saken us,  nor  that  He  has  ceased  to  govern. 

"  Just  now  our  little  community  is  invaded  by  a 
serious  trouble.  We,  apparently,  are  at  the  mercy  of 
an  enemy  who  grips  hard,  stops  at  nothing,  knows  no 
tolerance.  But  all  we  have  to  do  is  our  best,  knowing 
that  the  good  ultimately  prevails.  A  Creator  who  can 
produce  a  man  can  take  care  of  him.  It  is  right  that 
we  are  left  to  fight  our  own  battles  and  work  out  our 
own  salvation,  but  we  must  have  a  care  that  in  a  mis- 
taken zeal  we  do  not  go  a  step  too  far  and  defy  the 
hand  of  the  Lord  God. 

"  Now,  my  boy,  go  home.  To-morrow  morning  we 
will  discuss  this  thing  quietly  together  after  the  calm- 
ness of  a  night's  sleep.  The  five  of  us  will  go  over  it 


234  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

first  before  we  spread  the  news.  What  you  have 
heard  will  not  be  listened  to  calmly.  I  know  that; 
you  know  that.  It  is  hard  to  say  just  what  will  fol- 
low, but  at  least  we  will  do  what  we  can  to  remember 
that  to  rush  blindly  into  a  thing  doesn't  help  a  serious 
cause ;  and,  Randolph,  remember  this :  the  only  victory 
a  man  wins  in  this  world  is  the  victory  over  himself." 

Randolph  was  moved  in  spite  of  himself.  A  cer- 
tain new  peace  took  possession  of  him.  He  met  Callis-^ 
ter's  eyes  frankly. 

"  I  shall  not  speak  of  what  I  know.  Good-night, 
Mr.  Callister." 

The  two  clasped  hands  without  another  word.  Ran- 
dolph wheeled  his  bicycle  off  the  porch  and  disappeared 
into  the  darkness. 

Callister  stood  a  few  moments  alone,  thinking 
deeply,  then  he  crossed  over  to  the  laboratory.  He 
would  spend  the  night  in  work ;  it  would  fit  him  for  the 
day  to  come.  But  for  once  his  experiments  refused  to 
hold  his  thoughts.  Hour  after  hour  he  was  wonder- 
ing if  he  could  keep  his  grip  on  that  boy  until  the  battle 
was  ended,  save  him  from  himself.  Control  him,  guide 
him  from  the  threatening  red  of  anarchy  to  the  white 
of  peace. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  235 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

June  was  an  exquisite  month.  The  sun  shone  all 
day  long  from  a  sky  of  cloudless  blue.  The  wind  was 
soft  and  laden  with  spring  perfume.  Theodora,  all 
in  tune  with  it,  very  smiling,  very  happy,  sang  about 
the  house  where,  since  the  explosion,  she  had  presided 
all  alone,  insisting  on  dispensing  with  the  Giina- 
boy,  keeping  everything  in  such  order  that  a  person 
could  have  eaten  from  the  floor  of  the  kitchen. 

When  her  work  indoors  was  quite  finished,  she 
would  put  on  a  big  shade-hat  and  go  outside.  Her 
special  delight  was  the  flowers.  Each  morning,  with 
her  sleeves  rolled  back,  exposing  her  round,  white  arms, 
she  raked  and  watered  and  trimmed  the  garden,  watch- 
ing every  blossom  as  it  came,  loving  them  all. 

One  gigantic  rose-bush,  covering  an  entire  side  of 
the  house,  possessed  an  especial  charm  to  her.  It 
blossomed  in  wonderful  profusion,  and,  except  for  a 
few  weeks  in  midsummer,  she  could  always  gather  a 
bunch  of  flowers  from  it.  The  lawn  was  bordered  on 
both  sides  with  scarlet  geraniums.  Against  the  gate 
great  bushes  of  heliotrope  exhaled  a  perfume  almost 
sugary  in  sweetness.  It  seemed  as  though  the  girl  in 
her  devotion  to  this  home  never  forgot  a  blade  of  grass 


236  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

or  a  shrub.  Her  pride  in  every  nook  and  corner  was 
very  evident. 

Her  life  had  fallen  into  a  kind  of  routine,  certain 
affairs  occupying  certain  hours  of  every  morning.  She 
was  quite  by  herself,  seeing  very  few  people,  having 
almost  no  company,  but  for  all  that,  perfectly  con- 
tented. The  girl  was  never  lonely ;  she  lived  a  healthy, 
simple,  joyful  existence,  never  at  a  loss  for  amuse- 
ment when  she  was  alone,  asking  nothing  different. 

Ever  since  the  wedding  something  new  had  come 
to  Theo, — nothing  for  the  eye  or  ear,  but  vital,  funda- 
mental, never  to  be  forgotten.  What  had  occurred 
was  little  more  than  a  brief  exchange  of  glances  be- 
tween Jarvis  and  herself,  a  look  into  each  other's  eyes ; 
but  it  brought  matters  to  an  abrupt  crisis.  On  the 
instant  certain  things  became  clear  to  the  girl.  Al- 
though nothing  was  said,  words  were  unnecessary. 
She  understood. 

It  was  the  beginning  of  the  greatest  happiness  life 
holds,  and  her  mind  lapsed  into  a  vague  numbness. 
The  world  about  her  suddenly  became  tinted  with 
roseate  hues.  By  her  open  window  the  birds  sang  a 
new  song.  The  morning  breeze  brought  her  the  fra- 
grance of  many  flowers,  the  delicious  odors  of  field  and 
wood. 

It  was  as  if  the  wonderful  spring  had  crept  into  her 
heart  with  its  subtle  power,  planting  a  seed  of  longing 
that  in  time  would  burst  into  the  bloom  of  exuberant 
love. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  237 

Theodora  heard  Callister  arrive  about  nine  o'clock, 
and  knew  that  he  and  Jarvis  were  talking  together  on 
the  front  porch.  The  subdued  murmur  of  their  voices 
came  to  her  as  she  worked  in  the  kitchen.  Presently 
Lawler,  Hale  and  young  Mason  arrived.  Their  greet- 
ings were  very  quiet.  She  wondered  at  the  somber 
tone  of  their  voices. 

Randolph  had  telephoned  to  Lawler  and  Hale  early 
that  morning,  asking  them  to  be  present  at  a  special 
meeting  of  their  Company,  set  for  ten  o'clock.  Both 
men  had  been  curious  for  details,  surprised  at  the  de- 
mand, but  Randolph  evaded  their  questions. 

At  the  appointed  time  the  five  men  were  gathered 
on  the  porch  at  Jarvis'  house.  With  the  exception  of 
Morton,  it  was  an  exact  repetition  of  the  morning 
when,  sitting  together  about  the  same  table,  the  Flare- 
mont  Independent  Refiners  Company  had  found  birth 
and  the  money  pledged  for  the  works. 

Then  every  one  of  these  men  had  been  full  of  hope, 
buoyant  with  expectation,  seeing  success  ahead,  feel- 
ing themselves  already  persons  of  position  and  influ- 
ence. Now,  in  a  brief  lapse  of  time,  all  that  had  been 
changed.  Except  for  Callister,  every  man  there  stood 
on  the  verge  of  bankruptcy.  They  had  lost  all  the 
money  they  had ;  their  wells  were  not  only  idle,  but  use- 
less and  abandoned.  The  vivid  dreams  of  a  future 
that  enrolled  their  names  on  t  ,e  tablet  of  prominent 
citizens  of  the  state  of  Texas  had  faded  into  oblivion. 

After  Jarvis  had  motioned  the  men  to  seats,  he 
beeran : 


238  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

"  Gentlemen,  not  long  since  I  was  instrumental  in 
calling  a  meeting  of  the  drillers  and  owners  of  the  oil- 
wells  of  this  district.  My  purpose  in  doing  as  I  did  was 
not  to-  stir  up  insurrection,  but  in  the  hope  that  by 
concerted  action  we  could  so  present  our  case  to  the 
X.  &  Y.  Railroad,  that  our  freight  rates  would  be 
amicably  settled  on  a  different  basis.  It  is  needless  to 
add  that  so  far  as  that  idea  was  concerned,  the  meeting 
was  a  flat  failure.  I  wish  to  say  now  to*  you,  my 
friends,  that,  disappointed  as  I  was  at  that  time,  I 
know  better  now.  The  speakers  at  that  meeting  were 
right;  I  was  wrong.  There  is  no  hope  of  dealing 
amicably,  even  honestly,  with  the  railroad  or  the  trust, 
who  is  the  railroad's  master.  We  have  been  duped  by 
them.  Working  together,  they  have  caught  us  in  a 
trap,  and  they  are  going  to  squeeze  the  life  out  of  us. 
Mr.  Lawler's  declarations  at  that  meeting  were  justi- 
fiable, far-seeing.  I  want  you  to  hear  what  has  come 
to  my  knowledge.  Randolph,  will  you  repeat  what 
you  told  last  night  to  Mr.  Callister?  " 

Astonishment  sat  on  the  faces  of  Lawler  and  Hale. 
A  feeling  of  perplexity,  tainted  with  dread,  invaded 
their  minds.  Their  eyes  rested  on  the  boy,  who  began 
to  speak  with  nervous  rapidity,  telling  them,  as  he  had 
told  Callister,  of  the  rebate  given  by  the  railroad  to  the 
Eastern  Petroleum  Company.  The  words  came  in  a 
torrent.  He  talked  in  an  unnaturally  high  key,  the 
anger  that  rose  in  his  heart  continually  overridden  by 
a  deeper  emotion  of  desperation. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  239 

"  We  are  a  set  of  idiots  not  to  have  thought  of  this 
before,"  shouted  Hale,  his  face  flaming  as  the  whole 
story  lay  bare  before  them. 

"  We  might  have  known  those  Eastern  beasts 
weren't  in  this  thing  for  their  health.  Even  they,  with 
all  their  millions,  would  lose  money  at  the  present 
scheduled  tariff.  Oh,  we  are  fools,  we  are  blithering 
idiots!" 

Lawler,  speechless,  wagged  his  head,  his  lips  com- 
pressed, a  sensation  akin  to  faintness  sweeping  over 
him. 

"  But  what  can  we  do?  "  cried  Randolph.  "  If  we 
accuse  them  of  this  thing,  what'll  come  of  it?  Noth- 
ing, nothing  at  all !  They  are  a  law  unto  themselves, 
a  power  we  can't  buck  against.  All  we  can  do  is  to 
sell  our  oil  to  them  and  get  what  we  can  for  it." 

"  And  let  them  make  the  profits  off  our  product  ? 
Never,  never,  never !  By  God,  I'd  starve  first !  "  Hale 
shouted,  beside  himself  with  fury,  tortured  with  a  per- 
sistent vision  of  the  very  thing  Randolph  had  sug- 
gested. "  I  tell  you  there's  only  one  way  out  of  this 
fight, — band  together  all  the  fellows  that  are  stuck,  and 
fight.  We  ain't  the  only  men  hit  by  trusts.  Look  at 
every  trade  in  America.  It's  all  the  same, — controlled 
by  two  or  three  people  who  have  the  money  to  freeze 
the  little  chaps  out.  I  tell  you  we've  cause  enough 
here  for  rebellion.  This  question  of  monopoly  strikes 
at  the  foundation  of  our  government.  Wake  the  peo- 
ple up.  Show  'em  what  they  can  do,  once  they  throw 


240  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

off  indifference  and  say  '  No ! '  Let  every  man  who's 
been  hit  by  a  trust  company  take  a  gun  in  his  hand 
and  say  *  No,'  then  see  what  happens." 

Randolph  sprang  to  his  feet,  carried  away  by  Law- 
ler's  tirade.  "  I  won't  wait  for  that.  Give  me  a  knife, 
a  bomb,  anything  that  will  kill,  and  I'll  do  the  work 
to-morrow — any  day.  I'm  not  afraid.  I  will  set  the 
example.  I'll  fight  for  my  life  and  my  liberty.  It's 
instinct  to  defend  our  homes,  even  if  we're  driven  to 
kill.  Oh,  Eberlie  will  find  he's  bullied  the  wrong  man 
this  time.  So  help  me,  I'll  end  him — oh,  I'll  end 
him!" 

The  spirit  of  blind  revolt  that  Callister  had  quieted 
the  night  before  had  broken  loose,  leaping  past  all 
control.  The  boy's  hatred  of  Eberlie  flamed  into  an 
open  desire  for  murder.  His  mother's  white  face  was 
constantly  before  his  eyes.  He  saw  her  worried,  har- 
assed, her  shoulders  bent  with  the  toil  of  years,  facing 
now  the  grim  phantom  of  poverty,  all  because  of 
Eberlie. 

He  had  but  to  look  about  him  to  see  the  utter  wreck- 
ing of  a  dozen  careers,  families  submerged  with  debt, 
facing  actual  want,  because  the  market  was  shut  to 
their  products,  because  of  orders  demanded  by  a  crowd 
of  butchers  and  issued  by  Eberlie.  He  ached  to  get  at 
the  man.  He  suddenly  believed  that  to  acquit  himself 
of  some  fierce  deed  like  the  murder  of  this  tool  of  the 
trust  would  set  many  difficulties  right,  readjusting 
certain  oppressions,  calling  the  world's  attention  to 


THE   PAIR   TrRXKI),  ADYANCIXG    ARM   IX   ARM.-I'a^e  219. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  241 

the  sufferings  and  injustices  of  the  man  on  the  under 
side.     If  he,  too,  lost  his  life,  it  would  be  in  a  noble 
cause.     His  lips  were  white.     His  heart  was  raging1 
with  tumult  and  fury. 

But,  excited  as  Lawler  was,  the  boy's  assertion 
startled  him.  He  was  staggered  by  the  savagery  of 
Randolph's  spirit,  unprepared  for  such  a  proposition. 
Before  he  could  speak,  Callister  said,  quietly: 

"  My  boy,  if  you  want  to  end  your  cause  effectually, 
put  a  stop  to  public  sympathy  with  the  man  on  the 
under  side,  just  begin  by  that  course  of  action — mur- 
dering and  bomb-throwing.  You  want  to  keep  your 
wits  at  serious  times,  not  take  leave  of  them." 

"  There's  a  midway  course,"  put  in  Jarvis,  "  some- 
thing neither  inaction  nor  murder.  We  have  got  to 
begin  with  that.  Good  Lord,  we  must  throw  off  these 
fellows  somehow.  We  can't  go  on  forever  like  this. 
Someone  must  act.  I  can  understand  Randolph's  feel- 
ing. Of  course,  in  a  way  it's  wrong.  Each  one  must  do 
what  will  benefit  the  greatest  number,  setting  aside 
personal  wishes  for  what  will  bring  the  most  good. 
Killing  wouldn't  help  us,  as  Callister  says.  Instead,  it 
would  score  for  the  trusts." 

He  spoke  directly  at  young  Mason.  The  boy  had 
resumed  his  seat,  shaking  with  the  reaction,  his  over- 
wrought nerves  quivering,  his  head  bowed.  He  did 
not  try  to  speak  again,  only  listened  to  the  others  in  a 
grim,  bitter  silence.  He  had  brooded  so  continually 
over  the  influence  that  had  worked  disaster  to  his 

16 


242  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

mother's  oil  venture  that  he  was  hardly  responsible. 
Irresolute,  highly  strung,  very  emotional,  his  feelings 
were  easily  played  upon.  For  weeks  he  had  lain 
awake  nights  making  innumerable  plans  for  the  cor- 
rection of  conditions,  only  to  abandon  his  decisions  at 
daylight,  discouraged  at  his  own  weakness,  lost  in  a 
maze  of  uncertainties.  Lawler's  assertions  had  in- 
spired him  with  the  swift  conviction  that  ideas  he  had 
long  since  abandoned  were  true — the  needed  remedy 
for  a  social  ill.  Promptly  he  had  declared  himself, 
speaking  with  a  courage  born  of  the  occasion.  But 
with  characteristic  irresolution,  immediately  at  his 
listener's  criticisms  he  lapsed  into  a  shamed  dumbness. 

"  My  idea  would  be  this.  We  will  call  another 
meeting  of  all  the  men  who  should  hear  this  news.  If 
they  can  be  persuaded  to  take  matters  rationally,  we 
will  name  a  committee,  say  a  half  dozen  men  in  whom 
everyone  has  confidence.  These  men  will  wait  upon 
Eberlie,  stating  what  they  have  heard  about  the  re- 
bates, asking  explanations,  demanding  fair  treatment. 
Let  it  depend  on  the  railroad's  answer  what  the  next 
step  will  be.  If  possible,  this  thing  must  be  arranged 
in  a  dignified  manner.  Are  you  agreed  ?  " 

The  men  acquiesced  without  a  murmur.  Jarvis 
looked  at  Lawler,  his  eyes  fixing  him  with  a  steady, 
kindly  gaze. 

"  I  shall  count  on  you  four  men  to  help  me.  We 
must  work  in  harmony  about  that  committee.  The 
meeting  is  liable  to  be  stormy,  wilder  even  than  the 
last  one.  I  must  depend  on  your  assistance." 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  243 

'''  You  can  have  mine,"  said  Hale. 

'  That  hits  the  case,"  remarked  Lawler. 

"  And  you,  Randolph?  "  asked  Jarvis. 

"  I  will  do<  whatever  you  say,"  whispered  young 
Mason. 

"  I  am  always  with  you,  Jarvis,"  announced  Cal- 
lister. 

From  now  on,  each  man  made  it  his  business  to  send 
out  messages  all  over  the  oil  region,  calling  a  meeting 
the  following  night.  But  the  news  sped  ahead  of  the 
messengers,  spreading  of  itself.  The  story  of  the 
rebate  was  repeated  from  group  to  group.  The  sig- 
nificance of  this  underhand  cooperation  between  the 
railroad  and  the  Eastern  Petroleum  Company  was 
understood.  People  stood  aghast  at  the  situation  that 
momentarily  became  more  intolerable.  It  was  like  the 
sounding  of  their  death  knell. 

It  was  enough  to  turn  honest  men  into  rogues.  It 
was  beyond  the  bounds  of  imagination  how  men 
could  stand  so  ready  to  trample  out  the  lives  of  other 
men.  Surely  it  was  time  for  the  country  to  wake  up, 
to  rouse  itself  from  its  lethargy.  Patience,  heart- 
aches and  silence  had  endured  too  long  as  it  was. 

The  uproar  swelled  and  expanded  until  adjoining 
districts  caught  the  infection.  As  early  as  daybreak 
the  next  morning,  oilmen  began  arriving  in  Flaremont 
by  train,  on  horseback,  in  wagons.  By  noon  it  was 
evident  no  hall  would  hold  the  crowd  that  had  come 
for  the  special  purpose  of  attending  the  meeting. 


244  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

After  a  hurried  consultation,  it  was  decided  to  make 
use  of  the  square  fronting  the  main  business  street  of 
the  town.  Overlooking  this  square  was  the  general 
office  of  the  X.  &  Y.  Railroad  Company.  Lawler  called 
attention  to  this  with  a  satisfied  expression. 

The  word  was  passed  around.  By  four  o'clock  a 
throng  began  to  collect  on  the  outside  of  the  square. 
Among  the  oilmen  themselves  could  be  heard  no  signs 
of  quick  excitement,  no  bursts  oi  fierce  anger.  In- 
stead, they  were  stolid,  sullen,  determined.  A  wrong 
had  been  done  them  that  was  to  be  rectified.  They 
were  to  learn  what  preliminanr  steps  to'  take. 

Two  huge  calcium  burners  had  been  set  up,  the 
reflectors  focusing  the  lights  on  the  speakers'  stand. 
Promptly  at  seven  o'clock  Jarvis  appeared,  making 
his  way  to  the  platform,  staring  about  him  with  a 
kind  of  awe.  Hundreds  of  faces  rose  before  him. 
Hundreds  of  men  packed  into  the  open  space,  waiting 
to  hear  what  he  had  to  say,  crowded  so  closely  to- 
gether that  they  touched  one  another,  their  arms  pin- 
ioned to  their  sides,  scarcely  able  to  breathe  for  the 
press  of  humanity  all  about  them.  But  no  protest  was 
uttered,  no  word  of  complaint  heard. 

The  sight  of  this  vast  audience  of  silent,  patient 
men,  every  one  threatened  with  disaster  if  not  actual 
ruin,  here  to  learn  some  method  for  the  defense  of 
his  home  and  his  family,  stirred  Jarvis  to  the  depths 
of  his  being.  What  had  they  done  to  be  hounded  from 
prosperity  into  starvation?  Why  should  he  try  to 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  245 

stem  the  tide  of  a  rising  insurrection  against  unjust 
and  unnecessary  martyrdom?  Rather  their  redemp- 
tion should  take  place  at  his  hands.  A  wild  rabble 
would  have  disgusted  Jarvis,  but  this  multitude,  stand- 
ing mute  and  still  with  their  quiet  courage,  hushed 
with  anxiety,  white  with  suffering,  made  him  forget 
caution,  forget  his  desire  to  control. 

Overcome  with  extreme  emotion,  he  began  to  speak 
as  the  impulse  prompted.  From  the  first  he  swept  the 
audience  off  their  feet.  The  words  leaped  to  his  mind ; 
his  voice  rang  out  with  the  distinctness  of  a  trumpet, 
reaching  to  the  far  limits  of  the  square.  He  touched 
constantly  upon  the  injury  already  done  to  Flaremont ; 
he  suggested  means  and  measures  for  improving  the 
situation.  He  struck  blow  after  blow  against  monop- 
olies, calling  them  a  curse  to  the  country.  When  he 
cried  out,  "Competition  is  good,  necessary  to  the 
progress  of  a  great  producing  nation,  but  monopoly  is 
the  pathway  ending  in  business  stagnation  and  an- 
archistic doctrines,"  roarings,  gesticulations  and 
shouts  of  approval  rent  the  air. 

Jarvis  spoke  very  quietly,  very  simply,  with  no  at- 
tempt at  rhetoric,  no  strivings  towards  effect.  He  was 
listened  to  eagerly,  every  proposition  he  made  ac- 
ceded to  with  acclamation.  The  responsibility  he 
carried  that  night  was  enormous.  No  matter  what  he 
had  asked,  these  men  would  have  acted  unhesitatingly. 
Time  and  again  one  or  another  would  press  forward 
to  seize  him  by  the  hand.  He  had  become  their  leader, 


246  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

their  hope.  He  dominated  the  meeting  from  the 
moment  he  appeared. 

His  speech  was  a  masterpiece.  At  a  bound  it  raised 
him  to  a  position  of  trust  and  confidence.  Here  was 
the  man  to  be  followed,  relied  upon.  He  knew  their 
needs,  suffered  with  them. 

No  speeches  followed  his.  He  had  said  all  there 
was  to  say.  These  men  were  willing  to  trust,  willing 
to  let  their  cause  rest  as  it  was  with  him,  willing  to 
allow  him  full  sway. 

Briefly  Jarvis  explained  his  ideas  of  appointing  a 
committee  to  talk  with  representatives  of  the  railroad 
and  the  trust.  He  asked  for  a  vote  on  the  men  he 
named,  mentioning  his  special  friends,  Lawler,  Hale, 
Callister. 

The  motion  was  made,  seconded  and  carried  unani- 
mously that  these  men,  headed  by  Jarvis,  should  com- 
pose such  a  committee. 

Almost  immediately  after  this  the  crowd  began  to 
break  up,  separating  into  grouos,  going  off  quietly, 
orderly  to  the  last. 

As  yet  they  were  tractable,  law-abiding  citizens, 
honest  men.  There  was  no  uproar,  no  terrible  threat- 
ening, no  loud  talking,  no  undue  excitement.  They, 
the  people,  were  still  tolerant,  believing  in  the  laws 
of  their  country,  seeing  victory  perched  side  by  side 
with  freedom.  Their  loyalty  and  patriotism  prevailed 
snd  would  continue  to  prevail,  even  in  the  face  of  uni- 
versal disaster.  They  would  hold  to  their  country 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  247 

until,  their  patience  abused,  their  faith  ridiculed,  their 
vaunted  liberty  shamed  and  mocked,  they  broke  on 
the  last  straw  of  fair  means  despoiled — then  let  the 
tyrants  beware! 

Jarvis  walked  through  the  streets  that  night 
saluting  meri  right  and  left.  Instinctively  he  under- 
stood the  lengths  to  which  the  present  situation  could 
be  carried.  On  every  side  he  was  brought  face  to 
face  with  threatened  poverty,  the  disasters  coming 
from  conflict  between  individual  oil  producers  and  the 
trust,  the  cruel  selfishness  and  greed  of  big  com- 
panies, the  enormous  power  and  abuse  of  money,  the 
accumulation  of  a  long  series  of  wrongs ;  men's  hearts 
strong  with  seemingly  legitimate  hatred;  vice  increas- 
ing through  unhappiness.  Suddenly  there  rang  in  his 
ears  the  sound  of  a  prophecy,  the  terrible  catastrophe 
of  the  final  end,  the  finish  of  this  accursed  misunder- 
standing between  men  and  men.  The  red  figure  of 
war,  bloody,  brutal,  grisly :  a  vision  of  hatred,  disaster 
and  death  rose  before  his  startled  sight;  revolution 
unloosed. 

Jarvis  stopped  short.  Vividly  for  an  instant  he  was 
seeing  through  the  veil  of  obscurity,  peering  into  the 
forbidden  future,  terrified  at  what  he  beheld.  Only 
for  an  instant  was  he  held  by  this  horror,  then  ab- 
ruptly his  old  ideal,  the  desire  of  his  boyhood  to  head 
a  colony  based  on  Utopian  principles,  leaped  into  his 
mind.  Why  was  not  this  the  very  chance  he  needed? 
He  saw  himself  controlling  the  situation,  winning  re- 


248  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

spect,  fame,  prestige.  More  than  that,  the  ultimate 
success  of  the  very  scheme  he  had  dreamed  of  through 
all  these  years  might  be  secured  at  the  same  time.  Ex- 
altation dispelled  his  gloom.  He  would  stand  the 
apostle  of  these  helpless  men.  Energy  stirred  in  him. 
There  was  a  quick  expansion  of  his  whole  body.  He 
had  been  called, — he  had  heard  distinctly. 

"  Why  not?  "  he  cried.  "  It  is  my  chance  to  lead, 
to  govern,  to  make  my  place,  to  overcome  the  past  and 
to  do'  good.  We  should  be  willing  to1  die  at  our  work 
— why  not  for  it?  The  happiness  of  humanity  de- 
pends on  the  adjustment  of  capital  and  labor.  I 
should  be  a  coward  to  shirk  my  part  when  the  struggle 
comes.  Every  man  must  do  his  duty,  meeting  that 
claim  of  readjustment  as  he  meets  every  claim  exis- 
tence demands  of  him. 

"  Labor  is  invincible;  it  is  sacred,  it  is  life.  It  must 
win;  it  shall  win.  I  will  do  what  I  can  to  keep  these 
men  here  within  the  bounds  of  a  peaceful  settlement; 
but  if  the  cries  of  the  people  sound  the  alarm,  call  us 
to  labor's  defense,  I  shall  show  my  faith.  I  will  do 
my  part  with  all  the  strength  I  possess,  hastening  the 
dying  agony  of  a  social  evil  that  can  no  longer  live." 

Courage  came  back  to  him.  The  vision  died  from 
his  sight.  He  was  no  longer  harried  by  uncertainties 
and  doubts,  with  the  future  outlined  glum  and  for- 
bidding. The  evil  day  of  fearful  deeds  might  be  at 
hand,  but  he  knew  his  place  and  what  he  was  to  do. 
His  mission  was  no  longer  obscured. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  249 

It  was  nearly  midnight  when  he  reached  home.  As 
he  came  onto  the  steps,  he  saw  Theodora  sitting, 
asleep,  in  a  big  chair,  a  shawl  thrown  about  her,  her 
beautiful  neck  bent  until  her  head  rested  on  one  hand. 
She  had  evidently  come  out  there  to  wait  for  him. 
The  light  from  the  hallway  streamed  upon  her  through 
the  open  door.  It  fell  upon  her  white  face,  exquisitely 
pure,  infinitely  sweet,  serenely  calm.  The  sight  of  her 
was  like  a  soothing  draught  of  wine  after  long  hours 
of  anguish.  As  he  stood  silently  looking  down  upon 
her,  her  warm  breath  rose  to  him,  striking  on  his 
forehead,  the  delicious  fragrance  that  was  always 
about  her,  emanating  from  her  hair,  her  hands,  the 
garments  she  wore,  coming  to  his  nostrils,  causing  a 
veritable  faintness  to  pass  over  him.  Her  very  help- 
lessness increased  her  power  over  Jarvis. 

Suddenly  she  became  the  only  thing  in  the  world 
that  he  cared  for.  His  love  for  her  dominated  his 
body  and  soul,  not  to  be  resisted,  hardly  to  be  con- 
trolled. When  could  he  speak?  Had  he  not  enough 
to  endure  already  without  adding  silence  to  his  bur- 
dens, the  silence  that  deprived  him  of  every  joy  in 
life,  the  silence  that,  unbroken,  kept  marriage  at  a 
measureless  distance  from  him?  What  if  one  con- 
fession involved  another?  What  of  it  if,  in  asking 
Theo  to'  become  his  wife,  honor  demanded  at  the  same 
time  a  recital  of  his  own  past?  Surely,  if  she  cared 
for  him  she  would  forgive  those  two  deeds  that  he  had 
regretted  so  bitterly,  so  passionately.  He  saw  that  she 


250  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

was  infinitely  above  him,  as  all  women  are  above  men, 
made  of  a  finer  fabric;  but  he  would  try  with  all  his 
strength  to  save  her  from  regret,  to  make  her  happy, 
to  be  worthy  of  her.  The  strength  of  his  love  would 
force  her  to  forget  that  he  had  stolen,  that  he  had 
murdered. 

His  life  was  a  long,  bitter  struggle  against  the 
crushing  sense  of  that  unconquerable  memory  and  his 
desire  to  do'  right  by  this  innocent  girl  under  his 
charge.  That  he  must  relinquish  all  hope  of  Theodora 
never  entered  his  mind.  Yet  how  was  he  to  win  her 
with  the  difference  between  them  so  vast — a  gulf 
gaping  between  them,  with  his  life  set  on  one  side, 
black  from  the  beginning  with  the  imprint-  of  crime,  on 
the  other  her  innocent  life,  pure,  good,  the  existence  of 
a  nun? 

Misery  and  happiness  tore  at  him.  How  would  this 
end?  What  would  happen?  Suppose  he  never  told 
her  of  those  crimes  ?  In  his  mind,  there  seemed  but  a 
remote  probability  of  either  one's  coming  to  light. 
Moreover,  he  had  honestly  tried  to*  live  them  down,, 
had  done  his  best  to  put  them  aside  and  keep  them  an 
immense  distance  from  him.  The  temptation  for 
silence  was  strong.  He  passed  hours  of  torment,  re- 
flecting about  the  matter,  wrestling  with  himself, 
arguing  it  from  all  sides,  trying  to>  see  in  such  a 
silence  only  good  for  Theodora. 

But  the  fine  fiber  of  which  Jarvis  was  made,  the  ele- 
ment of  refinement,  the  spirit  of  perfect  justice  de- 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  251 

scended  to  him  from  his  mother,  was  still  his  master. 
By  a  supreme  effort  of  will  he  thrust  aside  the  tempta- 
tion. He  resolved  fiercely  that  his  love  was  a  poor 
thing  if  it  sought  protection  for  itself  under  cover  of 
dishonesty  to  the  one  he  loved.  It  was  the  final  vic- 
tory of  his  honesty,  the  triumph  of  the  higher  nature 
over  the  lower.  At  that  moment  he  completed  his 
mental  retribution  for  the  deeds  of  his  boyhood. 


252  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Few  of  the  oilmen  left  Flaremont.  It  appeared 
that  they  were  determined  to  stay  here  until  the  matter 
of  tariff  rates  had  been  settled  one  way  or  another.  It 
was  not  a  crowd  of  curiosity  seekers  that  thronged  the 
streets,  standing  in  groups  of  seven  and  eight,  mov- 
ing forward  and  backward,  a  low-pitched  hum  of 
voices  rising  in  the  air.  There  was  no  lawless  ele- 
ment, no  excitement,  no  anger.  What  was  to  be  done 
was  clear  in  their  minds.  They  felt  that  a  good  man 
represented  their  side,  and  they  were  here  simply  to 
await  the  outcome.  Not  one  in  fifty  could  be  found 
who  doubted  the  result  of  that  morning's  conference 
between  their  leader  and  Eberlie.  The  matter  was  as 
good  as  settled. 

At  ten  o'clock  Jarvis  appeared  in  Flaremont.  As 
on  the  night  before,  many  pressed  forward  to  greet 
him  or  shake  his  hand.  On  all  sides  he  was  welcomed 
with  expressions  of  confidence  and  loyalty.  At  one 
bound  he  had  come  into  a  place  of  prominence.  Every 
man  in  Flaremont  stood  ready  to  support  him  in  any 
move,  adhering  to  his  opinions,  pledging  themselves  to 
any  organization  that  he  headed. 

And  Jarvis,  feeling  that  it  was  he  who  must  bear 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  253 

the  responsibilities  of  what  came,  stood  ready  to 
bring  about  these  men's  vindication  at  any  expense  to 
himself.  He  had  telephoned  Eberlie,  making  an  ap- 
pointment with  him  at  the  railroad  office  for  half  past 
ten.  Promptly  at  that  hour  the  other  members  of  the 
committee,  Lawler,  Hale  and  Callister,  had  joined 
him. 

When  they  entered  Eberlie's  office,  his  clerk  ushered 
them  at  once  into  his  chief's  private  room,  the  same 
room  where  weeks  before  Morton  had  yielded  to  Wil- 
marth. 

How  much  of  their  purpose  was  known  to  the 
freight  agent  and  third  vice-president  of  the  X.  &  Y. 
Railroad,  Jarvis  could  not  guess.  Certainly  that  mass- 
meeting  of  the  night  before  had  been  open  enough  to 
make  him  well  acquainted  with  their  business.  But 
Eberlie's  face  was  inscrutable.  He  greeted  each  one 
cordially,  motioning  the  men  to  chairs,  seating  him- 
self last.  However,  in  spite  of  his  serene  calmness, 
there  was  a  look  of  gravity  on  his  face.  He  fingered 
his  watch-chain  nervously.  Finally  he  turned  towards 
Jarvis,  throwing  one  leg  across  the  other. 

"Well?"  he  began. 

Jarvis  had  no  intention  of  beating  about  the  ques- 
tion. He  spoke  at  once. 

"  Mr.  Eberlie,  Flaremont,  as  you  know,  was  for  a 
time  one  of  the  largest  shipping  points  for  petroleum 
on  your  road." 

Eberlie  bowed  his  head, 


254  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

"  Some  few  months  ago  the  freight  rates  were 
raised  on  us.  By  degrees  the  tariffs  advanced  and 
advanced  until  it  became  impossible  for  the  individual 
shippers  of  crude  oil  to  send  out  their  products.  In 
other  words,  ruin  stared  us  in  the  face,  through  your 
railroad.  We  felt  the  injustice  of  the  course,  but  we 
made  no  complaint,  believing  it  was  a  general  situ- 
ation. Now,  however,  it  has  come  to  our  knowledge 
that  while  all  producers  of  petroleum  seemed  to  be 
affected  by  the  rates,  really  the  individual  shippers 
alone  were  the  sufferers.  In  other  words,  the  raise 
was  a  premeditated  action  on  the  railroad's  part  to 
shut  us  out  secretly  from  receiving  certain  benefits 
that  others  were  to  receive.  To  put  it  plainly,  while 
everyone  paid  the  $1.45  a  barrel  in  obedience  to  your 
road's  orders,  certain  shippers  have  returned  to  them 
a  rebate  of  69^  on  the  $1.45  paid.  Is  our  information 
on  this  rebate  correct?  " 

"  It  is,"  said  Eberlie,  shortly. 

"  Why  is  this  discrimination  made?  "  demanded 
Jarvis,  taken  aback  at  Eberlie's  unqualified  assertion. 

"  I  decline  to  answer,"  said  Eberlie. 

"  Can  it  be  changed  ?  Can  anything  be  done  to 
cause  the  same  discrimination  to  extend  to  us?  " 

The  eyes  of  the  committee  fastened  themselves  on 
Eberlie. 

"  Nothing  can  be  done  either  to  lower  the  rates  or 
to  give  individual  shippers  a  rebate,"  announced  the 
agent. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  255 

"  But  suppose  for  a  moment  that  all  the  individual 
shippers  in  this  district  combine,  guaranteeing  your 
road  an  amount  o>f  business  equal  to  that  brought  you 
by  the  Eastern  men.  Under  such  circumstances,  can 
we  expect  a  lower  rate  of  freightage?"  hazarded 
Jarvis. 

"  No,  sir ;  you  cannot."  Eberlie's  tone  became  bel- 
ligerent. 

By  this  time  Lawler's  wrath  was  rising.  The 
brusque  refusals  at  first  only  surprised  him.  The  en- 
tire committee  had  listened  attentively,  not  one  ex- 
pecting Eberlie  to  assume  the  attitude  he  had  taken. 
At  least,  they  looked  for  temporizing  on  his  part. 

But  slowly  it  dawned  on  their  understanding  that 
this  rebate  was  not  a  business  matter  at  all.  The 
advanced  tariffs  evidently  were  put  on  for  a  purpose; 
a  corrupt  transaction  to  give  the  trust  an  inside  track. 

Lawler  got  on  his  feet.  He  leaned  on  the  table,  fix- 
ing Eberlie  with  a  steady  stare,  anxious  for  a  dis- 
cussion, ready  to  fight. 

"  See  here,"  he  began,  "  let  me  understand  you.  By 
your  repeated  refusals  to  Mr.  Jarvis'  requests  you 
practically  admit  that  we  are  out  of  it  with  this  rail- 
road; that  your  lines  are  closed  to  the  individual 
shippers  and  refiners  in  this  district;  that  the  only  oil 
producer  who  can  do  business  with  you  is  the  trust, 
the  Eastern  man;  that,  in  fact,  you  are  lending  your- 
self and  your  railroad  to  that  trust  for  the  purpose  of 
shutting  us  out,  leaving  us  one  of  two  courses:  to 


256  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

go  to  the  wall  or  to  sell  our  oil  to  the  trust.  Is  that 
the  situation?  Is  that  where  you  and  your  road 
stand?" 

Eberlie  shoved  his  chair  back.  "  I  decline  to  listen 
to  such  words  in  my  office,"  he  exclaimed,  his  face 
paling,  his  eyes  burning  with  sudden  anger.  "  Why 
don't  you  appeal  to  the  Interstate  Commerce  Commis- 
sion? They  are  in  existence  to  answer  disputes. 
Lodge  a  protest  or  a  complaint  or  what  you  please 
with  them.  I'm  nothing  but  an  agent;  I've  no  power." 

"  No,  but  you  are  on  the  inside.  You  know  where 
we  stand,  and  that's  what  we  are  here  to  learn,"  cried 
Hale. 

"  You  know,  Eberlie,  that  we  can't  appeal  to  the 
Interstate  Commerce  Commission  and  get  anything," 
began  Jarvis.  "  It's  simply  another  theater  for  delay 
and  litigation.  I  tell  you — you  know — we  cannot 
afford  longer  delays.  These  delays  are  killing  us.  I 
demand  of  you  as  an  honorable  man  to  tell  us  where 
we  stand,  what  we  must  expect.  You  have  knocked 
us  down  again  and  again,  confronted  us  with  every 
means  of  destruction  you  could  devise;  but  even  now, 
with  starvation  fronting  us,  we  have  still  tried  to  be- 
lieve it  was  all  honorable  warfare.  But  have  you  been 
playing  on  our  credulity?  Are  you  sticking  us  in  the 
dark?  Are  you  and  your  company  nothing  short  of 
highbinders  ?  "  demanded  Jarvis.  His  head  was  in  a 
whirl.  He  was  almost  sick  with  the  vague  impression 
that  was  fast  becoming  a  reality. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  257 

Eberlie  gave  a  gesture  of  impatience.  "  I  have  told 
you  all  I  can  say.  Once  before,  at  the  opening  of  the 
rate  war,  I  explained  to  you,  Mr.  Jarvis,  that  I  was 
simply  an  agent  of  the  road,  put  here  to  carry  out  orders 
that  came  from  headquarters.  I  don't  know  what  is 
back  of  this  issue." 

"  You  lie !  "  broke  in  Lawler.  "  You  know  so  well 
that  you  are  afraid  to  tell  us." 

"  Mr.  Eberlie,"  broke  in  Callister's  calm,  grave 
voice,  "  you  have  acknowledged  the  existence  of  cer- 
tain rebates.  You  have  also  practically  admitted  the 
fact  that  your  railroad,  which  is  supposed  to  carry  in- 
discriminately, has  violated  its  charter  by  selecting  its 
patrons  to  the  exclusion  of  the  public  demand." 

"  That  is  covered  by  a  franchise,"  broke  in  Eberlie, 
doggedly. 

The  words  startled  ail  the  men  of  the  committee. 

"  Ah,  now  we  are  getting  at  something,"  said  Law- 
ler, with  a  shout.  "  Let's  hear  about  this  franchise. 
Is  it  on  the  same  order  as  the  rebate,  in  favor  of  the 
same  parties  ?  " 

Underlying  the  tone  of  derision  there  was  an  im- 
plied threat  that  made  Eberlie  look  up  at  Lawler 
uneasily.  Then  his  eyes  wavered  and  his  reply  was 
uttered  in  the  same  dogged  manner  that  he  had  as- 
sumed from  the  beginning  of  the  interview. 

"  It  is  a  franchise  giving  exclusive  possession  of 
this  trunk-line  and  all  its  connections  out  of  the  oil 
region.  We  are  not  the  only  ones  in  the  agreement. 

17 


258  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

Every  trunk-line  is  included.  The  whole  oil  country 
is  covered  by  the  same  franchise,  from  ocean  to  ocean, 
from  gulf  to  gulf." 

The  statement  was  met  with  a  dead  silence.  Not  a 
voice  was  raised  in  exclamation,  in  protest,  in  indig- 
nation. That  they  were  utterly  routed,  completely  be- 
trayed, hounded  and  beset  by  the  enemy,  was  clear  to 
every  one  of  them.  The  trust  was  the  master;  they 
puny  things. 

It  was  Lawler  who  recovered  first;  recovered  from 
a  stunned  bewilderment  to  an  impotent  rage.  He 
sprang  to  his  feet,  advancing  threateningly  on  Eberlie, 
his  face  scarlet. 

But  Eberlie  backed  away,  crying  aggressively, 
"  Keep  away  from  me.  I've  nothing  to  do  with  this 
agreement.  I'll  not  listen  to  any  of  you.  I  decline  to 
listen  to  anything  you  have  to  say." 

"  It  makes  no  difference  to  me  what  you  decline  to 
listen  to.  You  may  cinch  us  with  your  orders,  but 
you'll  listen  to  some  things  I've  got  to  say,  if  I  have 
to  hold  you  in  your  chair  while  I'm  saying  'em," 
shouted  Lawler,  furious  with  anger. 

"  I'm  not  the  one  to  talk  with,"  cried  Eberlie, 
doggedly,  losing  his  air  of  calm.  "  If  you  want  to  fix 
things  up,  I'm  not  the  one  to  come  to.  You  will  have 
to  go  direct  to  the  men  of  the  trust.  I  can't  have 
trouble  with  those  people." 

"  Well,  I'll  tell  you  people  you  will  and  can  have 
trouble  with,"  thundered  Lawler.  "  The  citizens  of 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  259 

this  town  and  every  adjoining  town  that  is  swept  with 
ruin  because  of  your  damnable  tricks  and  lies.  We 
came  here — we're  sent  here  by  the  oilers  and  drillers 
of  this  district  to  enter  a  protest  against  the  lashings 
you've  given  us.  The  protest  has  been  entered.  All 
methods  of  peace  have  been  exhausted.  You  refuse 
to  listen  to  us.  Now  you  can  watch  out  for  something 
else.  If  it's  war  you  want,  you'll  get  it.  You  can't 
forever  betray  us,  belittle  us,  wipe  the  earth  with  us, 
playing  us  for  a  set  of  damn  fool  suckers." 

Eberlie,  stung  by  the  lash  of  Lawler's  tongue, 
sprang  to  his  feet,  snapping  his  ringers,  crying  out 
partly  in  derision  and  partly  in  defiance,  "  That  for 
your  threats,  you  puny  thing!  Do  you  suppose  you 
and  your  kind  stand  any  chance?  War?  Why,  you 
and  your  people  can  war  all  you  like.  You'll  bunt 
your  heads  against  a  granite  wall,  and  all  you'll  get 
will  be  the  hurt  done  yourselves.  You  can't  dent 
the  granite.  Some  time  you  will  learn  that  the  day 
of  small  traders  is  past.  Conditions  have  changed. 
There's  only  one  power  now.  Power?  Yes,  a  force 
so  big  that  a  revolution  can't  touch  it.  Go  on  and 
fight  and  see  the  big  fellows  sit  one  side  and  laugh  at 
you,  you  wooden  figures.  You'll  be  dancing  on  the 
end  of  the  strings  they  pull,  with  your  guns  wiggling 
on  your  arms  before  you  finish.  Oh,  go  on  and  mass 
your  oilers  and  drillers.  Mass  'em  and  fight !  "  He 
concluded  in  an  excess  of  passion,  his  eyes  flaming, 
his  body  quivering.  A  second  later  the  side  door  of 


260  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

the  office  slammed  shut,  and  Eberlie  disappeared,  leav- 
ing the  four  men  of  the  committee  staring  after  him. 

They  were  blind  with  astonishment,  maddened  with 
rage,  ready  to  spring  after  the  agent  and  strangle  the 
insults  in  the  throat  of  the  man  who  had  uttered  them. 

The  interview  was  over.  The  committee  had  done 
its  work  and  failed,  failed  utterly.  It  was  like  a  clap 
of  thunder.  The  men  were  stunned.  Until  now  not 
one  of  them  realized  how  thoroughly  he  had  relied  on 
the  outcome  of  this  meeting.  Each  had  looked  for 
results,  favorable  results.  Instead,  Eberlie  had  denied 
them  justice,  ridiculed  their  demands,  driven  home 
with  terrific  force  their  absolute  helplessness.  They 
sat  looking  at  one  another,  refusing  to  adapt  them- 
selves to  this  new  condition. 

"  My  God,  the  thing  is  piling  up !  "  muttered  Hale. 
"  How  can  we  tell  those  fellows  waiting  out  there?  " 

No  one  spoke  or  moved.  What  would  happen  next  ? 
It  was  fresh  calamity  appearing  each  day.  A  crisis 
was  at  hand,  once  the  sullen  patience  of  the  people 
broke,  once  they  knew  just  what  had  happened. 

But  somehow  no  one  of  the  four  was  anxious  to 
report  the  humiliation.  Outraged  as  they  were,  a 
sense  of  enormous  responsibility  gripped  them,  rilling 
them  with  apprehension  as  to  the  effect  of  what  they 
had  to  tell.  They  were  actually  sick  with  it. 

Jarvis  pulled  at  his  collar.  It  seemed  difficult  for 
him  to  breathe.  For  the  first  time  doubt  had  entered 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  261 

Callister's  mind.  For  a  brief  second  he  could  find  no 
reassurement  of  good  in  this  phase' of  social  conditions. 
He  sat  staring  straight  ahead  with  vague,  unseeing 
eyes,  his  mind  distorted  by  the  fancy  of  some  giant 
organism  glutting  its  hungry  maw  with  millions  upon 
millions  of  tiny  parasites  that  struggled  and  fought 
for  freedom  from  its  loathsome  grasp. 

In  the  midst  of  the  silence,  the  main  door  was  thrown 
open,  the  clerk  appeared.  "  This  way  out,  gentle- 
men," he  said,  briskly,  his  manner  lacking  totally  in 
respect. 

The  men  of  the  comtm'ttee  arose.  As  they  filed  out 
of  the  room  a  certain  feeling  of  shame  touched  them. 
They  were  beaten  men.  Not  only  were  they  insulted 
and  belittled,  but  they  were  shown  out  of  the  office 
where  they  had  come  to  do  business.  As  they  reached 
the  outer  door  Lawler's  wrath  reasserted  itself,  flaming 
into  fever-heat  over  this  final  affront.  His  jaws 
clicked.  He  no  longer  cared  what  happened.  The 
whole  crowd  of  them  had  been  duped  from  the  be- 
ginning. According  to  the  trust,  there  was  no  place 
for  any  of  them.  Well,  before  these  Easterners  were 
through  with  this,  that  idea  might  be  altered. 

Within  a  dozen  feet  of  the  office  door  a  group  of 
men  were  waiting.  Lawler  called  out  the  news,  at- 
tracting immediate  attention  by  his  shouting.  His 
anger  loomed  up  each  instant  more  bitter,  more 
ominous.  Like  Randolph,  he  was  ready  to  kill  Eber- 
lie.  He  wanted  to  do  something  absolutely  reckless, 


262  'ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

absolutely  unreasonable,  ready  to  lead  an  army  in 
revolt.  He  was  surrounded  by  a  throng,  shouting 
out  his  phrases,  yelling  that  they  had  been  downed 
on  purpose.  From  the  very  first  there  had  been  no 
chance  for  the  man  who  refused  to  sell  to  the  trust. 
It  had  been  a  scheme  well  worked  out  in  the  dark 
to  ruin  trade  for  everyone,  that  the  trust  might 
flourish.  The  trust  owned  the  railroad  as  it  did  the 
courts,  as  it  owned  everything  it  needed.  Nothing,  no 
one,  was  immune  from  its  power.  Was  it  going  on 
this  way  forever? 

Gesticulating,  his  voice  shading  with  exasperation, 
Lawler  retold  the  story  of  the  interview  over  and  over 
again.  It  spread  down  the  street  in  the  midst  of  a 
sinister  silence.  The  people  were  stupefied.  For  a 
moment  their  hearts  wavered.  Then  the  storm  broke. 
The  tempest  withheld  for  so  long  was  unloosed.  Men 
became  like  animals.  Never  before  had  Flaremont 
been  the  scene  of  such  furious  passions.  The  commit- 
teemen  were  surrounded.  Traders,  venders,  shop- 
keepers from  all  the  neighborhood,  left  their  places 
to  collect  about  the  four  men  who  came  with  the  tale 
of  ruin;  making  the  affair  their  own.  At  times, 
stunned  with  a  grim  realization  of  what  it  all  meant, 
there  would  come  moments  of  sudden  stillness,  the 
thoughts  revolving  in  the  listeners'  brains  too  stupen- 
dous for  utterance. 

But  insurrection  was  at  fever-heat.  The  crowd  be- 
came a  stamping,  raging  horde  of  men,  rampant  with 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  263 

the  brute  instinct,  at  grapples  with  the  enemy. 
Everywhere  rose  the  clamor  for  battle,  the  demand  to 
be  led  against  the  foe  who  pursued  them.  A  roar  went 
up  for  Jarvis,  increasing  in  volume  until  the  air  echoed 
with  shouts  of  "Jarvis,  Jarvis!"  intermingled  with 
cries  of  "  Speech,  speech!  " 

He  was  the  one  man  thought  of,  the  one  man  looked 
to  in  the  emergency.  Someone  rolled  a  barrel  to  the 
edge  of  the  sidewalk.  Jarvis  mounted  amid  deafening 
applause.  The  crowd  surged  forward  about  this  man 
so  suddenly  become  their  chosen  leader. 

For  a  second  time  Jarvis  was  facing  that  sea  of 
faces,  pledged  now,  body  and  soul,  to  their  cause,  feel- 
ing that  the  moment  for  action  had  arrived. 

The  excitement  inspired  him.  A  crisis  rested  with 
him.  The  right  move  on  his  part  now  might  mean 
the  rescue  of  men  in  misery,  the  quietus  to  certain 
iniquities.  His  heart  was  stirred;  at  the  same  time 
his  sympathies  were  not  won  at  the  expense  of  his  head. 
He  understood  precisely  how  much  was  at  stake,  and 
he  believed  thoroughly  that  a  mission  had  been  given 
him — perhaps  the  mission  that  would  win  him  salva- 
tion from  the  past.  Both  sides  of  this  gigantic  ques- 
tion were  clear  in  his  understanding.  On  one  hand 
he  saw  the  system  of  progress  cracking  to  pieces; 
destruction  descending  on  the  man  of  small  capital. 
He  saw  unjust  distribution  of  wealth,  the  insolent  cor- 
ruption of  laws,  together  with  that  of  the  makers  of 
those  laws;  he  saw  two  or  three  giant  corporations 


264  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

expanding  to  a  limitless  power,  begorged  with  wealth 
absorbed  from  the  little  circle  of  toilers  who  stood  alone 
— honest,  hard-working  men  given  over  to  a  hopeless 
future.  He  saw  individual  accumulations  of  money 
that,  rightfully  distributed,  meant  plenty  for  the 
masses. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  he  saw  a  government  waking 
up;  he  saw  scattered  throughout  the  country  an  ad- 
vance guard  of  men  who  understood,  who,  when  the 
time  was  ripe,  would  unite  in  a  solid  phalanx,  raising 
their  mighty  strength  in  terrible  protest,  installing 
a  new  order  of  things. 

Every  citizen  would  then  have  his  part  in  labor,  his 
distinct  place  in  the  community.  Parasites  feeding  at 
will  on  the  fruits  of  others'  toil  would  be  brushed 
aside.  The  individual  would  no  longer  be  crushed  at 
a  master's  pleasure,  but  instead  be  met  with  the  broth- 
erly love  of  a  co-worker.  If  to  free  labor  a  struggle 
must  come,  it  would  be  a  struggle  based  on  a  mighty 
principle,  war  for  a  mighty  good,  its  victory  marking 
a  new  era,  the  dawning  of  the  day  of  perfect  under- 
standing and  perfect  peace.  Oppression,  vice,  poverty 
would  be  vanquished  by  the  same  blow.  Every  ques- 
tion would  stand  answered ;  every  grief  would  be  swept 
away.  It  would  lay  the  foundation  of  a  glorious  uni- 
verse of  unselfish  love,  place  the  corner-stone  of  the 
Utopian  structure  that  he  had  dreamed  of  in  his  youth 
and  poverty.  It  was  well  worth  the  waiting  for,  suf- 
fering for,  fighting  for.  If  he  could  but  sow  the  seed 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  265 

of  this  hope,  of  this  belief,  in  the  hearts  of  these  men, 
they  could  still  endure  with  patience,  ceasing  their 
cries,  waiting  calmly  for  the  golden  harvest. 

Ideas  succeeded  one  another  with  great  rapidity. 
The  fever  was  on  him  to  speak.  He  burned  to  help; 
to  show  that  truth  will  prevail ;  that  the  law  of  principle 
and  equality  and  good  work  out,  each  in  its  own  season. 
Jarvis  gazed  about  him.  A  hush  had  fallen  over  the 
men,  widening  by  degrees  until  the  whole  city  seemed 
under  the  spell  of  silence. 

Jarvis'  heart  beat  fiercely.  At  that  moment  he 
touched  the  supreme  pinnacle  of  human  sympathy. 
He  raised  his  hand. 

Suddenly,  before  he  uttered  a  word,  a  curious  thing 
happened.  Poised  above  this  multitude,  something 
caught  his  eye.  It  was  barely  more  than  a  passing 
light,  a  form  shaped  from  out  of  a  shadow,  but  Jarvis 
stared,  startled  at  the  resemblance,  forgetting  the 
words  he  was  about  to  speak,  forgetting  the  very  pres- 
ence of  the  men  who  were  there  to  listen.  His  heart 
gave  a  leap  into  his  throat  and  seemed  to  hang  there 
immovable.  His  eyes  dilated  with  terror.  He  caught 
at  his  head  wildly,  his  face  ashen,  his  mouth  wide 
open. 

From  out  of  the  sky  a  specter  had  stepped  to  mock 
him.  A  nightmare  returned  to  engulf  his  hopes,  to 
balk  his  future.  Abruptly  there  appeared  to  Jarvis' 
galloping  imagination  the  figure  of  a  man,  tall,  thin, 
sinister,  covered  with  a  long  ulster.  From  his  thin 


2GG  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

mouth  issued  the  raucous,  rasping  breath  of  a  dying 
man.  Beside  him  quailed  a  boy,  motionless,  bewildered, 
his  hands  against  his  face,  and  back  of  him  was 
still  another  figure,  a  young  girl,  her  white  skirts 
dabbled  in  blood,  her  pale  face  terrorized,  her  great 
eyes  distended,  mute  with  horror,  seared  by  contact 
with  crime. 

A  frenzy  of  agony  shook  Jarvis.  His  senses  fled. 
Overwrought,  unstrung,  he  beheld  an  hallucination 
that  took  on  every  evidence  o>f  reality.  A  relentless 
past  had  entered  the  door  of  his  present.  The  coming 
of  Meredith's  ghost  was  but  the  inexorable  law  of 
retribution,  the  sowing  of  the  wind  and  reaping  the 
whirlwind.  Forever  his  crime  must  stand  between 
him  and  the  goal  of  his  ambitions,  his  advancement, 
his  hopes.  Forever  it  would  bar  the  golden  gate  of 
happiness  with  its  red  figure  of  shame,  separating  him 
from  Theodora. 

With  a  cry  he  turned,  bowing  his  face  in  his  arm, 
dizzy,  sick  unto  death.  A  great  faintness  swept  over 
him.  He  could  hardly  breathe.  The  sound  of  inces- 
sant roaring  in  his  ears  deafened  him  so  that  he  barely 
heard  the  cry: 

"  Catch  him.     He's  fainted.     Help!  " 

Everything  grew  black.  He  swayed  forward 
heavily.  When  Callister  caught  him,  consciousness 
had  fled.  Jarvis,  scarcely  less  white  than  the  dead,  lay 
limp  and  motionless  in  a  dead  faint. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  267 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

Jarvis'  sudden  and  unaccountable  illness  put  a  mo- 
mentary stop  to  the  impending  trouble.  For  a  time 
there  was  a  wild  rumor  of  foul  play.  It  ran  riot 
among  the  people.  A  hundred  different  stories  were 
started.  Jarvis  had  been  hurt  during  the  interview 
with  Eberlie ;  no  one  could  say  how  badly  he  had  been 
injured.  He  had  been  given  a  drink  that  contained 
a  drug  intended  to  stupefy  him. 

As  the  hours  passed,  there  were  rumors  and  counter 
rumors.  Men  walked  the  streets  in  companies,  talk- 
ing, gesticulating.  From  the  vast  throng  there  rose 
continually  a  low-pitched  growl,  the  terrible  droning 
note  of  awakened  wrath. 

The  afternoon  wore  on.  Callister  had  left  Jarvis  in 
Theo's  care,  seeing  that  everything  was  done  for  his 
comfort;  then,  assured  that  Jarvis  was  not  seriously 
ill,  he  set  out  towards  his  home.  The  man  was  heartily 
weary  of  the  strife  and  the  turmoil  of  the  city.  He 
had  no  wish  to  return  where  the  sight  of  sullen  faces, 
bloodshot  eyes,  set  teeth  and  clenched  hands  met  him 
at  every  turn.  He  cared  nothing  for  the  fierce  bicker- 
ings between  men  and  men.  Dissensions  had  no  place 
in  his  world,  except  as  they  served  their  purpose  in  the 
resistless  working  out  of  the  good. 


268  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

To  watch  men  fight,  to  see  them  in  the  unlovely 
exhibition  of  brutal  passions,  wanting  to  maim  or  kill, 
was  repulsive  to  Callister. 

Of  late  the  man's  courage  had  been  returning,  his 
nerves  tingling  to  be  again  at  his  experiments.  He 
was  possessed  with  a  desire  of  once  again  seeing, 
through  his  efforts,  life  return  to  a  heart  stilled  in 
death.  Not  for  a  long  time  had  he  felt  so  strongly  his 
old  ambition  to  control  electricity,  to  do  what  had 
never  been  done,  to  rise  to  a  pinnacle  of  greatness 
through  his  own  labors.  His  existence  was  bounded 
by  the  four  walls  of  his  laboratory.  It  was  his  world, 
the  forces  of  nature  an  inspiration  beside  which  all 
else  seemed  the  flimsiest  mockery.  He  was  not  cut 
out  for  petty  conflicts,  the  pommeling  and  fisticuffing 
of  infuriated  men. 

The  man  struck  out  towards  the  short  trail  skirting 
the  level  country.  His  face  was  serious,  pale,  thought- 
ful, the  face  of  one  who  suffers  and  broods,  appearing 
like  a  man  who  lives  on  the  borderland  of  the  spiritual, 
feeling  in  the  silence  of  the  great  solitudes  where  he 
lives  his  daily  life,  the  material  draw  away  from  him 
until,  like  the  prophets  of  old,  he  dwells  near  God. 

Once  in  his  laboratory,  surrounded  by  his  furnaces, 
his  apparatus,  his  electrical  devices,  it  was  like  entering 
a  new  atmosphere,  stimulating  to  a  degree.  For  days 
he  had  shut  himself  away  from  here,  tormented  with 
doubt  and  uncertainty.  But  now,  responsive  to  the  in- 
spiration of  his  ambitions,  he  surrendered  himself  to 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  269 

the  influence  of  the  place,  gradually  convinced  of  his 
right  to  be  here.  He  took  a  deep  breath,  the  lines 
smoothed  from  his  face.  Standing  at  the  very  gateway 
of  miracles,  he  knew  only  his  desires  and  the  infinite 
possibilities  lying  at  his  very  hand. 

The  sunlight  filtered  in  between  the  partly  closed 
blinds.  The  invigorating  air  swept  through  the  length 
of  the  room.  Remembering  every  detail  of  the  last 
night  he  had  passed  here,  he  set  his  machines  in  mo- 
tion. Once  again  in  the  quiet  of  his  own  domain  he 
would  summon  life  and  death,  commanding  them  to 
answer  his  call.  If  he  had  been  obeyed  before,  he 
would  prove  his  mastership  a  second  time.  If  he  had 
discovered  the  way  to  revivification,  he  must  do  again 
what  he  had  done,  satisfy  himself  beyond  all  doubts. 
No  spirit  of  self-aggrandizement  entered  into  the 
matter.  His  tired,  lonely  heart  went  out  to  his  work, 
humbled  by  the  very  strength  of  his  inspiration.  He 
gave  the  best  of  himself,  his  capacity  for  extreme  rev- 
erence, touched  by  the  sacredness  of  what  was  before 
him. 

As  he  advanced  with  his  work,  excitement  was  no- 
where visible.  A  calm  seriousness  marked  Callister's 
every  move.  His  purpose  was  to  repeat  his  experi- 
ment on  two  animals,  a  dog  and  a  turtle.  Would  the 
repetition  be  a  success?  Surely  what  he  had  seen  be- 
fore justified  hope. 

To  be  assured  of  their  death,  Callister  gave  three 
shocks  to  each  of  the  animals.  For  a  moment,  just 


270  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

after  he  had  laid  them  on  the  operating-table,  the  old 
shadow  of  doubt  challenged  his  heart,  the  blasphemy 
of  reaching  forth  a  profane  hand  into  God's  realm  op- 
pressing him.  But  the  feeling  disappeared  as  he  be- 
came absorbed  in  his  work.  Holding  the  syringe  in 
his  right  hand,  he  injected  the  salt  solution  into  the 
veins.  He  reached  for  his  wire,  reducing  the  power, 
giving  shock  after  shock  to  the  dead  creatures.  It 
was  the  same  work  of  that  night  long  ago,  but  would 
it  end  as  that  did?  Would  it  actually  come  to  the 
point  of  recalling  life?  And  again  he  grew  uneasy, 
wondering  how  he  had  been  able  to  go  at  this  a  second 
time.  The  element  of  dread  was  immense.  No  mat- 
ter which  way  the  experiment  ended,  he  was  presum- 
ing, going  out  of  the  earthly  domain  of  realities.  He 
had  beheld  one  mystery  unfold  before  his  very  eyes. 
He  should  have  stopped  there.  Was  it  permitted  a 
human  being  to  deliberately,  for  a  second  time,  go  so 
far  as  this — standing  face  to  face  with  creation  ? 

The  minutes  passed.  The  silence  in  the  room  was 
heavy.  Callister  worked  as  in  a  trance;  never  before 
had  he  felt  as  he  did  now.  His  imagination  shot  in 
advance  of  what  he  was  doing.  He  saw  before  him, 
instead  of  two  dumb  brutes,  the  body  of  a  human  being 
lying  in  the  chill  of  death,  answering  Callister's  call, 
the  soul,  at  his  word  of  command,  taking  refuge  again 
in  the  form  it  had  left.  He  saw  the  body  come  from 
out  the  embrace  of  the  grave,  rising  into  light  and 
life,  obeying  him,  the  master  of  a  gigantic,  irresistible 
force. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  271 

Dizzied  with  the  picture  that  shaped  itself  in  his 
mind,  Callister  turned  his  attention  from  the  animals, 
burying  his  head  in  his  arm,  hardly  daring  to  watch 
the  results  of  his  own  accomplishings. 

But  matters  reached  a  quick  crisis.  The  man's  face 
lifted  mechanically  towards  the  table  where  something 
had  stirred.  •  Callister  held  his  breath.  One  hand  lay 
on  the  dog's  heart.  The  creature  was  no  longer  rigid. 
The  tension  of  the  ensuing  wait  was  tremendous. 
Was  it  coming  again?  Life  where  death  should  be? 

A  vibration,  the  feeling  of  which  Callister  would 
never  forget  so  long  as  memory  lasted,  rippled  under 
the  dog's  skin.  It  was  the  first  response  to  the  man's 
call,  but  he  sat  still,  not  daring  to  move.  Exaltation 
fled.  The  old  terror  of  what  he  was  doing  reasserted 
itself. 

A  moment  later  the  muscles  in  the  animal  relaxed. 
The  vibration  had  become  a  regular  defined  movement. 
The  eyelids  twitched.  Steadily,  slowly,  the  grip  of 
dissolution  unloosed  its  hold.  Steadily,  slowly,  life 
emerged  before  the  man's  startled  gaze,  bursting  the 
bonds  of  death,  rising  triumphant,  coming  at  the  call 
sent  forth. 

Callister,  trembling  violently,  arose  to  his  feet.  He 
could  no  longer  look  at  what  he  had  done.  He  had 
little  idea  of  what  had  happened,  where  he  was.  His 
reason  seemed  unsettled.  His.  thoughts  wandered. 
All  at  once,  with  a  great  cry,  he  fell  on  his  knees,  pour- 
ing out  words  of  pardon,  uttering  inarticulate  prayer. 


272  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

"Oh,  God,  the  Father,  forgive,  forgive!  Do  with 
me  as  Thou  seest  fit.  Strike  life  from  me,  smite 
memory  from  my  brain  and  knowledge  from  my  mind, 
for  I  am  no  longer  worthy  to  be  called  Thy  son." 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  273 


CHAPTER  XX. 

With  a  return  to  consciousness  came  Jarvis'  old 
fear  of  pursuit.  The  feeling  that  had  so  long  been 
relegated  to  the  background,  lost  in  the  belief  that  he 
was  doing  his  best  with  life.  Now  once  more  it  had 
leaped  to  the  front,  not  to  be  forced  aside.  He  was 
stunned,  bewildered.  Was  this  some  forewarning  of 
approaching  danger,  some  cunning  sixth  sense  sound- 
ing the  alarm?  Years  had  passed  since  the  crime, 
years  filled  with  work  and  hardship,  successes  and 
failures,  but  years  during  which  he  had  done  what 
he  could  to  show  himself  an  honest  man. 

Suddenly  the  crime  hounded  him.  He  went  about 
with  the  old  alertness.  Every  time  he  moved  he  felt 
himself  to  be  tracked.  Everywhere  he  went  some 
enemy  seemed  to  hang  at  his  heels,  dogging  his  foot- 
steps, waiting  to  spring  at  him  from  a  hidden  corner 
and  strike  the  fatal  blow.  Over  and  over  again  there 
dinged  in  Jarvis'  mind  the  cry,  "  A  life  for  a  life." 

During  the  still,  black  hours  of  the  night  the  man 
was  miserable.  He  would  rise  from  his  bed,  contem- 
plating flight,  or,  sitting  motionless  by  the  open  win- 
dow, watch  and  listen  for  he  hardly  knew  what. 
He  continually  expected  signs  that  should  proclaim 

18 


274  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

the  presence  of  an  unseen  foe.  It  was  all  but  im- 
possible to  resist  the  impulse  that  goaded  him  to 
escape.  It  became  an  influence  that  grew  stronger 
with  every  hour's  time.  In  vain  he  argued  with  him- 
self. The  instinct  that  had  awakened  was  not  to  be 
appeased. 

Theodora  watched  Jarvis  anxiously.  The  change  in 
him  was  pitiful.  The  man  found  his  only  contentment 
with  her.  He  scarcely  let  the  girl  from  his  sight, 
avoiding  everyone  else,  even  young  Mason  and  Cal- 
lister.  When  either  man  presented  himself  with  in- 
quiries or  messages,  Jarvis  invariably  sent  word  that 
he  was  ill  and  unable  to  talk  over  affairs,  even  with 
friends.  The  statement  was  true  enough.  The  man 
was  ill,  mentally,  overcome  with  nervous  exhaustion 
and  a  spirit  of  unrest. 

The  days  were  growing  very  hot.  From  twelve 
until  three  the  sun  was  all  but  unendurable.  But,  re- 
gardless of  the  heat,  Flaremont  all  day  long  swarmed 
with  groups  of  restless  men.  Discouraged  by  Jarvis' 
prolonged  absence,  they  had  waited,  irresolute,  doing 
nothing,  charing  with  anger  and  impatience.  They 
wanted  a  leader,  but  one  word  from  a  determined  man, 
as  a  signal  for  attack.  It  was  as  if  they  stood  on  the 
edge  of  a  giant  precipice,  willing  to  take  the  fatal  leap 
over  the  side,  provided  only  they  could  carry  with 
them  those  they  hated. 

Men  spoke  in  growls.  Their  eyes  flamed  with  cru- 
elty. The  suspense  of  the  situation  was  harrowing. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  275 

Many  who  had  never  tasted  liquor  before  were  drink- 
ing heavily,  slaking  a  thirst  for  revenge  with  whisky 
that  exhaled  its  poison  on  the  atmosphere.  A  general 
feeling  of  fear  had  extended  to  the  railroad  offices. 
Processions  of  masked  men  paraded  the  streets,  groan- 
ing and  hooting  in  front  of  the  business  places  of  the 
oil  trust.  Walls  were  placarded.  Eberlie  had  been 
hanged  in  effigy.  It  had  become  unsafe  for  this  agent 
and  third  vice-president  of  the  X.  &  Y.  Railroad  to  be 
seen  on  the  streets. 

Wilmarth  had  left  town.  No  one  knew  how  or 
where  he  had  gone ;  he  had  simply  disappeared.  Ques- 
tions flew  about  in  the  air.  The  impatience  increased 
daily. 

On  the  eighth  of  June  the  report  was  circulated  that 
a  train  of  tank-cars  carrying  the  trust  company's  oil 
from  Texas  to  the  Atlantic  seaboard  would  pass 
through  Flaremont.  It  was  the  appearance  of  the 
needed  signal,  the  sounding  of  the  alarm. 

At  ten  o'clock  fifty  men,  headed  by  young  Mason, 
collected  at  the  Inn.  Very  quietly,  very  orderly,  they 
formed  into  line,  marching  down  the  tracks  half  a 
mile  below  Flaremont.  It  was  an  easy  matter  to  take 
up  the  rails.  As  they  worked,  no  one  intruded  on 
them.  There  was  little  talking  and  no  malicious  dev- 
astation of  property.  For  a  long  stretch  the  track 
was  removed,  preventing  oil  from  passing  over  this 
line  until  matters  were  settled  on  a  different  basis.  If 
the  railroad  wouldn't  haul  for  individual  shippers,  it 


276  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

couldn't  haul  for  the  Eastern  men.  The  tracks 
through  that  district  were  for  everyone  who  paid. 
The  fight  might  as  well  begin  at  this  point. 

A  guard  was  formed  about  the  broken  rails.  Word 
was  sent  back  to  all  the  oilmen  what  was  being  done 
and  a  demand  made  for  their  presence.  The  next  day 
might  see  difficulty.  They  must  prepare  for  anything, 
even  a  hand-to-hand  fight  with  the  railroad  people. 
In  numbers  and  organization  lay  their  strength  and 
their  hopes  for  success. 

Before  the  train  arrived  a  crowd  collected,  sympa- 
thizers with  the  oilmen,  citizens  of  Flaremont.  There 
were  occasional  greetings,  but  for  the  most  part  every- 
thing was  silent,  like  the  inevitable  hush  presaging  a 
great  storm. 

The  roar  of  the  oncoming  train  broke  the  stillness, 
the  ground  rocked  and  trembled.  Every  eye  turned 
instinctively  in  the  direction  of  the  advancing  freight. 
But  curiously  enough,  at  the  first  clamor  of  wheels 
and  steam,  sudden  confusion  broke  on  the  orderly 
rioters.  Mouths  hardened,  hands  gripped  at  weapons. 
In  face  of  approaching  trouble,  a  spasm  of  utter  reck- 
lessness seized  the  crowd. 

The  engineer,  head  out  of  the  window,  one  hand 
on  the  lever,  eyes  and  ears  alert  for  any  emergency, 
uttered  an  exclamation.  The  headlight  had  revealed 
the  unusual  gathering  on  both  sides  of  the  track. 
Scenting  instant  danger,  he  applied  the  reverse,  set- 
ting the  air-brakes,  whistling  signals.  The  monster 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  277 

engine  shuddered,  belching  steam  and  smoke.  At 
every  turn  of  the  sliding  wheels  it  was  lessening  the 
distance  between  safety  and  annihilation.  But  the 
engineer  dominated.  With  a  wrench  and  a  jerk  he 
stopped  the  train  scarcely  two  feet  from  the  broken 
track,  and  swinging  from  the  cab,  he  yelled,  "  What 
in  hell's  the  matter  ?  " 

It  was  young  Mason  who  replied.  "  We  have  cut 
you  off,  and  you  can't  go  on  unless  you  empty  every 
drop  of  oil  out  of  the  tank-cars  you're  hauling." 

"  By  whose  orders?  "  demanded  the  conductor,  who 
had  come  up. 

"  The  order  of  the  people,"  shouted  Lawler. 

"  Mob  law,  hey? "  commented  one  of  the  crew. 

"No — justice!"  returned  a  dozen  voices. 

There  was  a  brief  consultation  in  the  cab  of  the  en- 
gine. The  engineer,  fireman  and  train  crew  talked 
vigorously.  After  many  minutes,  it  was  apparent 
some  decision  had  been  reached.  The  mob  could  see 
the  men  clearly  by  the  lights.  Finally,  the  conductor 
appeared. 

"  I  am  unarmed,"  he  announced.  "  Will  you  let 
me  advance  and  talk  this  thing  over  with  you?  " 

"  We  don't  want  your  talk.  We  have  acted  for  a 
purpose.  We  are  going  to  hold  this  road  if  we  swing 
for  it,"  called  Mason. 

An  assenting  roar  came  from  the  crowd. 

"  But  you'll  wreck  the  flyer  that's  coming  after  us," 
persisted  the  trainman. 


278  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

"  Put  up  your  lights.    We're  not  hindering  you." 

The  man  turned  back,  climbing  into  the  cab.  Pres- 
ently a  brakeman,  carrying  two  lanterns,  stepped  from 
the  engine  and  disappeared  down  the  road,  swinging 
the  lights  as  he  walked.  The  fireman  threw  open  the 
box  and  stoked  vigorously.  The  engine  throbbed  and 
boiled.  Just  beyond,  the  crowd,  perfectly  silent, 
watched  their  work  with  satisfaction. 

The  minutes  passed.  The  brakeman  had  not  reap- 
peared. The  conductor  walked  up  and  down  past  the 
first  two  cars,  back  again  to  the  engine,  restless,  uneasy. 
After  a  long  time  a  distant  rumbling  could  be  heard 
through  the  absolute  silence.  The  engineer,  standing 
outside  oiling  the  locomotive,  raised  his  head.  He 
opened  his  watch  and  looked  at  it. 

"  It's  the  flyer.  She's  a  couple  of  minutes  late,"  he 
announced,  his  voice  making  itself  clear  to  the  mob. 

Then  excitement  got  the  better  of  the  watchers. 
They  leaned  forward,  peering  down  the  track,  trying 
to  see  the  approaching  train  in  the  heavy  darkness  of 
the  night.  Evidently,  as  yet  no  signals  had  been  seen, 
for  the  rumble  of  wheels  proclaimed  the  flyer  tearing 
over  the  rails  at  full  speed.  The  fireman  joined  the 
engineer.  Both  men  stood  facing  down  the  track. 
A  hint  of  uneasiness  made  itself  apparent  among  the 
oilmen.  If  anything  should  be  wrong  with  the  lights 
set  by  the  brakeman,  the  consequences  would  be  some- 
thing awful.  Desperate  as  these  men  were,  enraged 
as  they  had  been,  they  were  not  murderers.  Bloodshed 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  279 

and  unnecessary  violence  were  only  to  be  thought  of 
when  everything  else  had  failed.  Even  then  it  -was  a 
serious  matter. 

Lawler  wagged  his  head;  Hale  smoked  furiously; 
Mason  paced  up  and  down  with  quick,  short  steps, 
never  speaking,  his  lips  dry,  his  fingers  trembling. 
From  one  end  of  the  group  to  the  other  the  tension 
held,  every  man  alert  for  what  was  to  happen,  every 
head  cocked  forward  to  listen. 

The  hiss  and  clamor  of  the  train  had  increased  to  a 
roar.  At  intervals  there  came  three  short,  sharp  blasts 
from  the  engine  as  the  onrushing  train  crossed  roads 
or  met  signals.  The  headlight  could  be  seen,  huge, 
distorted,  an  eye  of  vengeance,  striking  terror  into  the 
hearts  of  its  enemies.  The  men  leaned  forward,  rigid, 
intent.  The  shrill  shriek  of  the  whistle,  followed  by  the 
appliance  of  the  emergency  brakes,  came  almost  simul- 
taneously. Instantly  the  speed  of  the  train  decreased. 
The  listeners  could  hear  the  wheels  grate  along  the 
rails  as  they  ceased  to  revolve,  answering  the  clamped 
gear  underneath,  stopping  almost  within  its  own  length. 

A  deep  breath  went  up,  like  a  giant  sigh  of  universal 
relief.  One  of  the  men  laughed;  another  uttered  an 
oath.  The  strain  was  broken,  but  so  suddenly  that  the 
rioters  were  slow  to  recover  from  the  reaction. 

Then  silence  fell  again.  At  long  periods  during  the 
night  the  trainmen  would  make  their  appearance, 
ready  to  argue  the  situation,  furiously  angry  at  the 
delay,  asking  if  the  wreckers  realized  that  morning 


280  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

would  bring  the  law  on  them.  But,  obeying  Lawler's 
injunction,  not  a  man  in  the  crowd  replied.  It  was  too 
late  to  regret  or  back  out,  if  anyone  cared  to.  Talk- 
ing could  only  lead  to>  differences,  perhaps  quarreling, 
and,  as  Lawler  said,  right  was  on  their  side  just  so 
long  as  they  carried  themselves  like  gentlemen,  not 
like  cutthroats.  This  first  step  towards  open  rebellion 
against  the  railroad's  policy  had  been  taken,  and  they 
were  ready  to  follow  it  up  by  any  necessary  actions. 
But  they  would  not  discuss  the  issue,  nor  fight  with  the 
trainmen. 

The  endless  hours  wore  on.  Just  before  daylight 
three  men  from  one  of  the  sleepers  walked  briskly 
down  the  road-bed,  close  to  the  stalled  oil-train.  They 
paused  at  the  spot  where  the  rails  were  torn  up,  gazing 
at  the  ground.  The  tallest  of  the  three  explained 
something  to  his  companions,  using  large  gestures, 
finally  pointing  back  to  the  first  engine.  Immedi- 
ately the  two  men  went  back,  calling  out  the  engineer, 
escorting  him  to  where  the  third  man  still  stood 
frowning  down  the  track.  He  was  very  tall  and  cor- 
respondingly thin,  but  in  the  half  light  of  early  morn- 
ing, the  silent  crowd  could  distinguish  about  him  the 
grand  air  of  an  important  figure.  Even  at  this  hour  he 
was  dressed  as  for  an  occasion,  frock  coat,  light  trou- 
sers, high  hat.  A  freshly  lighted  cigar  was  between 
his  lips ;  with  his  cane  he  pointed  out  something  to  the 
engineer,  talking  vigorously,  growing  angry  when 
time  and  again  the  engineer  shook  his  head. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  281 

"  I  should  never  be  balked  by  a  thing  like  that,"  he 
announced  finally,  in  a  loud  voice.  "  It  takes  some- 
thing more  than  a  displaced  rail  and  a  mob  of  strikers 
to  balk  me,"  he  went  on. 

"  Well,  go  fight  the  strikers,  keep  'em  off,  and  we'll 
lay  the  track,"  replied  the  engineer,  exasperated  at  the 
man's  tone.  "  There  ain't  a  baker's  dozen  in  Flare- 
mont  who'll  come  out  here  and  help  in  this  business. 
Everyone  except  those  employed  by  the  railroad  are 
in  sympathy  with  the  fellows  who  have  done  this,  and 
a  handful  of  us  can't  go  against  every  man  in  a  town." 

"  Do<  you  mean  that  we  are  to  stop  here  forever  ?  " 
demanded  the  tall  man. 

"  Yes,  unless  the  soldiers  are  called  out.  Suppose 
yon  call  'em."  The  engineer  turned  on  his  heel  and 
walked  off. 

"  When  you're  governor,  Meredith,  this  won't  be 
allowed,"  asserted  the  man  on  his  right. 

Waving  aside  the  compliment  with  a  large  gesture, 
Meredith  advanced  with  a  magisterial  air.  "  We  will 
go  on  and  interview  these  men,"  he  announced. 

When  he  came  up  to  the  crowd  he  paused  a  second, 
looking  from  one  face  to  another.  The  first  faint 
streaks  of  dawn  lighted  the  East,  and  in  the  clear  air 
objects  were  plainly  visible,  even  in  the  far  distances. 
There  was  no  wind ;  the  silence  was  infinite,  as  though 
the  great,  calm  earth  waited  to  hear  the  result  of  her 
children's  quarrels. 

The  new-comer  straightened  to  his  full  height,  bring- 


282  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

ing  his  glance  to  bear  on  the  three  men  who1  stood 
nearest  him,  Mason,  Hale  and  Lawler.  He  made  no 
gesture,  he  did  not  change  his  position.  When  he 
spoke,  his  voice  was  dignified  and  respectful. 

"  Gentlemen,  since  I  have  looked  at  this  gathering 
I  am  wondering  what  has  occurred  to  force  you  to 
such  an  issue  as  this.  I  had  expected  to  find  a  rough, 
irresponsible  gang  of  lawbreakers ;  instead,  I  see  gen- 
tlemen. Who  is  your  leader?  I  should  like  to  talk 
with  him.  The  matter  interests  me." 

"  There  is  no  special  leader  here.  We  are  all  acting 
in  accord,  for  one  cause.  A  universal  purpose  involv- 
ing fixed  principles  that  should  be — yes,  are  the  foun- 
dation of  our  country's  government,"  called  Hale. 

"  Will  you  state  the  cause  that  has  prompted  this  at- 
tempt to  practically  tie  up  a  railroad  ?  "  asked  the  new- 
comer. 

In  a  few  words  Mason  explained.  He  spoke  of  their 
situation,  their  hopelessness,  finally  their  aims. 

But  directly  the  trust  question  was  raised,  the  man 
who  listened  smiled  grimly. 

"  You  are  undertaking  a  difficult  matter,"  he  re- 
marked, his  voice  distinctly  less  respectful.  "  Has  no 
one  advised  you  of  the  absurdity  of  this  plan  ?  No  one 
can  force  the  trusts.  You  may  stop  traffic  on  this  road 
for  a  few  hours,  but  how  does  it  help  you  ?  You  don't 
harm  the  railroad,  you  don't  interfere  with  the  Eastern 
men.  The  action  is  child's  play.  The  trains  will 
move,  you  will  be  punished,  the  incident  will  be 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  283 

laughed  over  a  little,  then  forgotten,  and  your  cause 
won't  be  advanced  one  peg." 

"  Who'll  move  the  trains  ?  "  called  Mason. 

"  The  militia.  If  that  doesn't  quiet  you  chaps  down, 
your  village  here  will  be  put  under  martial  law.  You'll 
have  to  put  up  a  governor  and  a  whole  government 
allied  to  your  cause  before  you'll  help  yourselves 
much." 

"  Well,  we  may.     We've  the  man  for  the  place." 

Meredith  gave  a  little  laugh.  "  Is  the  gentleman 
present?  I'd  like  to  see  my  opponent  in  the  coming 
election."  The  man's  companions  smiled. 

Mason,  furious  at  the  implied  ridicule,  called  out, 
"  No,  he's  not  here ;  but  if  he  runs,  Jarvis  will  have  the 
votes  of  every  oilman  and  every  anti-trust  man  in  the 
state.  They  are  not  few.  You  will  be  surprised.  The 
numbers  will  count  up  big,  if  you're  the  trust  candi- 
date." 

Mason's  idea  was  welcomed  with  a  tremendous  up- 
roar. It  was  a  new  consideration,  carrying  with  it  the 
solution  of  many  problems.  With  a  governor  of  their 
own,  what  couldn't  the  independents  accomplish? 

Even  the  new-comer  seemed  impressed.  He  looked 
at  Mason  curiously. 

"What  was  the  name  you  mentioned?"  he  de- 
manded. 

"  Jarvis,"  said  Mason. 

"  Jarvis  what?  " 

"  Bud  Jarvis   he's   always  called,  but   I   thirik  his 


284  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

name  is  James.  You'll  probably  know  later.  You'll 
hear  enough  of  him.  Perhaps  you'll  see  too  much,  if 
you  are  the  candidate  who  heads  the  other  side." 

There  was  a  roar  of  laughter,  but  Meredith  turned 
away.  Apparently  he  had  drifted  into  some  reverie, 
his  attention  abstracted  from  the  group  of  men  he  had 
come  to  conciliate.  Undoubtedly,  something  had  hap- 
pened. His  companions  followed  after,  wondering  at 
the  change  in  their  leader. 

It  took  considerable  to  upset  this  man  of  politics. 
But  Meredith  offered  no  explanation.  Only  once  he 
muttered : 

"  Strange,  very  strange.  The  name  is  not  common. 
I'll  look  into  it.  Who  knows,  who  knows  ?  " 

The  politician,  assisted  by  his  two  admirers,  climbed 
into  the  smoking-car.  By  now  all  the  passengers  were 
up  and  dressed.  Meredith  put  on  the  most  conse- 
quential airs,  responding  to  the  simplest  questions  as 
though  he  were  submitting  to  an  important  interview. 
He  talked  loudly  of  the  present  government  in  Texas, 
saying  the  fact  that  such  a  thing  as  this  could  be  al- 
lowed was  little  less  than  an  open  disgrace.  It  needed 
a  man  with  a  firm  hand  and  strong  judgment  in  the 
governor's  chair.  These  mobs  once  quelled  and  the 
leaders  treated  with  the  severity  their  conduct  merited, 
would  put  a  stop  to  such  outrages  on  the  public 
at  large.  He  recommended  that  the  Texans  be  on 
their  guard.  Meanwhile,  voices  all  over  the  car  were 
heard  to  rise  in  protest  and  anger.  In  the  hubbub  one 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  285 

could  not  hear  a  word  uttered  in  favor  of  the  men  who 
had  destroyed  the  track.  This  wait  was  endless.  The 
longer  it  continued,  the  more  nervous  the  passengers 
became.  Were  they  never  going  to  get  on  ? 

By  now  five  trains  were  blocked.  Eberlie  had  tele- 
graphed wildly  for  help  and  for  instructions,  but  it 
was  nearly  eleven  o'clock  before  a  train-load  of  sol- 
diers arrived  at  Flaremont.  They  hurried  to  the  scene 
on  a  double  quick.  Once  there,  a  square  was  formed 
about  the  railroad  men,  protecting  them  at  their  work 
until  the  rails  were  replaced  and  the  track  in  good  con- 
dition. 

The  signal  was  sent  down  the  line.  With  a  series 
of  sharp  whistles  from  his  engine,  the  engineer  of  the 
oil  train  started  up,  pulling  onto  a  siding  to  give  the 
flyer  a  free  track.  The  crowd  had  begun  to  scatter. 
But  everyone  in  Flaremont  heard  the  fast  mail  tear 
away  at  breakneck  speed,  rushing  towar3s  the  East  in 
a  mad  flight,  endeavoring  to  make  up  some  of  its  lost 
time. 

For  the  first  time -since  the  third  of  June,  Jarvis 
made  his  appearance  at  Flaremont.  News  of  what 
was  being  done  had  been  telephoned  to  him.  As  he 
rode  in,  the  entire  town  seemed  to  be  on  the  streets. 
Excitement  burned  at  fever-heat.  As  Jarvis  stood 
tying  his  horse  to  a  post  in  front  of  the  Inn,  a  reporter 
who  had  come  down  from  a  neighboring  city  on  the 
car  with  the  soldiers  stepped  up  to  Jarvis. 

"  I  can't  get  any  of  the  men  to  talk  of  this  affair; 


286  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

that  is,  any  of  the  chaps  who  were  up  there  helping  in 
the  job.  Can  I  get  their  side  of  the  business  from 
you  ?  "  he  asked. 

Jarvis  hesitated  a  moment.  "  Yes,  you  can  get  their 
side.  And  their  side  is  every  man  and  woman  and 
child's  side  in  this  town.  Look  about  here.  Were  you 
ever  here  before?  Well,  six  months  ago  we  had  a 
town  here,  a  business  center,  a  place  full  of  honest, 
hard-working,  law-abiding  citizens.  We  were  pros- 
perous drillers.  We  asked  nothing  of  anyone  but  fair 
treatment  and  a  chance  to  live.  The  trust  got  at  us: 
The  railroad  under  the  commands  of  the  trust  got  at 
us.  They  refused  to  haul  our  oil  at  any  price.  They 
left  nothing  open  to  us  but  to  sell  our  product,  our 
crude  material,  to  the  trust.  When  we  refused,  they 
decided  to  break  us  beyond  hope  of  rising.  We've 
made  a  start  now,  opened  a  campaign  against  the 
plunderers.  You  have  seen  just  the  beginning,  and 
if  you  keep  your  eyes  open,  you'll  see  a  finish  some  day 
— a  finish  that  will  bring  the  government  to  its  feet. 
That's  one  version  of  this  job." 

The  reporter  wrote  busily.  His  face  expressed 
neither  interest  nor  surprise. 

"  Can  you  give  me  the  names  of  the  leaders  in  this 
campaign  against  the  trust?"  he  demanded,  his  eyes 
still  on  his  note-book. 

"  Not  without  their  permission." 

"  May  I  use  yours?  " 

"  Yes — if  you  care  to." 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  287 

"  I  understand  the  candidate  for  governor  at  the 
next  election  was  one  of  the  passengers  on  the  train 
that  was  held,  Gilson  Meredith.  Can  you  tell  me  if 
that  is  true?" 

Jarvis  caught  his  breath  with  a  sharp  hiss.  "  Gil- 
son  Meredith,"  he  repeated,  stupidly,  "  who  is  he?  " 

"  He's  come  up  in  politics  wonderfully  in  the  last 
five  years.  He  lived  in  California  until  then.  He's 
made  great  strides.  They  say  at  Houston  he's  the 
most  popular  man  they've  ever  had  there;  something 
about  him  that  conciliates  both  elements.  Don't  know 
him  myself,  but  it  would  make  a  good  story  if  I  can 
work  his  name  in." 

Jarvis  moved  off.  His  head  was  whirling  madiy. 
The  strange  foreboding  wa's  at  him,  insistent,  ringing 
in  his  brain,  spurring  his  body,  possessing  him  with 
its  mysterious  intuition  of  danger.  The  name  that 
had  fallen  on  his  ears  struck  him  with  the  force  of 
a  blow.  Was  he  to  be  tracked  at  last,  cornered  by 
the  brother  of  the  man  whom  he  had  murdered? 
Would  flight  save  him,  even  if  he  yielded  to  the  im- 
pulse? Was  not  fate  hunting  him  down,  laughing  to 
see  him  run,  ready  to  seize  on  him  at  any  moment, 
regardless  of  where  he  went  or  what  he  did  ? 

He  shook  the  reporter  off,  hurrying  down  the  street, 
having  no  longer  a  definite  notion  of  what  he  wanted. 
Man  after  man  spoke  to  him,  calling  out  a  greeting, 
ready  to  stop  and  talk  over  the  news,  but  Jarvis  kept 
steadily  on,  nodding,  trying  to  smile,  but  speechless. 


288  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

Past  the  railroad  office,  through  the  public  square, 
across  the  business  portion  of  the  city,  the  man  pur- 
sued his  way.  He  listened  to  the  trains  that  were 
following  one  another  over  the  tracks,  the  straining 
and  creaking  of  the  cars  filling  the  air  with  their 
jarring  sound.  But,  oppressed  by  the  sinister,  mys- 
terious warning  that  beset  him,  he  paid  small  heed  to 
the  din.  He  was  near  the  scene  of  the  oilmen's  work 
before  he  knew  it.  As  he  approached,  Randolph  Ma- 
son swung  his  hat  in  the  air  and  ran  towards  him. 
His  face  was  pale  from  fatigue  and  excitement,  but 
his  eyes  burned. 

"  Say,  do  you  know  what  we  are  going  to>  do1  with 
you  ?  "  he  shouted,  anxious  to  be  the  first  to  tell  the 
news.  "  We  are  going  to  run  you  for  governor,  in- 
stall you  at  Austin  to  look  after  our  interests.  The 
other  candidate  gave  us  the  notion.  It'll  be  a  cinch  for 
you.  He  won't  stand  any  chance.  Yes,  sir;  we  are 
going  to  run  you  as  the  people's  choice,  the  honest 
man  against  the  trust's  candidate,  Gilson  Meredith, 
the  political  bummer." 


SI  1 1C    STOOD   AT  HIS  SIDE,  A  VISION  REALIZED.— Page  301. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  289 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

As  was  the  case  with  every  rumor  during  the  pres- 
ent state  of  excitement,  the  news  of  putting  forward 
their  own  political  candidate,  advancing  for  governor 
a  man  pledged  to  their  side,  leaped  through  the  town, 
repeated  from  lip  to  lip.  They  wanted  a  leader.  They 
wanted,  at  headquarters,  a  man  looking  after  their 
interests,  seeing  fair  play  done.  The  idea  carried  the 
independents  off  their  feet  with  enthusiasm.  The  city 
was  filled  with  wild  crowds  of  men  shouting,  surging 
through  the  streets  with  no*  definite  destination  in 
mind,  the  excitement  increasing  momentarily. 

It  was  a  foregone  conclusion  as  to  who  would  rep- 
resent them.  Jarvis'  name  was  mentioned  as  the  only 
one  thought  of,  the  one  man  in  all  the  state  best 
fitted  to  the  place.  He  was  closely  allied  to  the  in- 
dividual oil  trade,  the  shippers'  interests  were  his. 
Moreover,  he  was  a  keen,  clear-headed  man,  quick  to 
make  friends,  possessed  of  a  practical  working  knowl- 
edge of  their  business,  and  with  full  understanding 
of  the  great  questions  he  would  be  called  upon  to  con- 
front. They  could  see  no  obstacles  in  the  way  of  con- 
trolling the  nominating  convention  if  plenty  of  money 
was  forthcoming.  Naturally,  it  would  be  expensive. 


19 


290  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

One  couldn't  go  into  politics  and  expect  something 
for  nothing.  But  it  would  cost  no  more  in  the  end 
than  sitting  still  and  seeing  things  go  from  bad  to 
worse  in  the  oil  trade.  Besides,  once  the  people  of  the 
state  realized  what  Jarvis  stood  for,  men  would  flock 
to  his  side.  Flaremont  citizens  wouldn't  have  to  stand 
all  the  expense  when  matters  were  understood. 

Terribly  in  earnest  and  feeling  they  could  not  af- 
ford to  wait,  an  executive  committee  was  formed  out 
on  the  street  where  the  men  were  standing.  Lawler 
was  made  chairman  pro  tern.  At  once  he  called  a 
business  meeting  for  that  night  to  discuss  all  details 
and  rush  matters.  He  named  the  Inn  as  the  assembly 
place  and  seven  o'clock  as  the  hour.  Meanwhile,  Jarvis 
was  to  be  asked  formally  to  accept  the  responsibility 
of  entering  the  political  field,  and  ways  and  means  for 
future  work  attended  to. 

When  the  committee  scattered,  the  men  hurrying 
away  to  their  each  and  several  duties,  an  air  of  brisk- 
ness, almost  of  gaiety,  pervaded  the  crowd.  Men 
harassed  for  weeks  past  by  helplessness  and  idleness 
found  relief  in  action,  catching  in  blind  hope  at  some- 
thing to  do. 

All  day  Jarvis  kept  close  to  the  house.  He  had  been 
notified  that  his  presence  was  demanded  at  the  meeting 
to  be  held  at  the  Inn,  and  he  had  given  his  word  to  be 
present. 

But  it  was  only  a  sense  of  what  he  owed  to  the  peo- 
ple, a  feeling  that  as  long  as  he  was  free  his  duty  was 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  291 

with  them,  that  prevailed  with  Jarvis.  From  the  mo- 
ment of  hearing  Meredith's  name  from  the  reporter  he 
told  himself  that  his  end  was  about  reached,  that  fate 
was  spinning  the  web  close  about  him,  enmeshing  him 
in  a  network  from  which  he  could  never  break  loose. 

Once  he  had  believed  that  in  the  time  of  a  crisis  he 
would  stand  as  the  people's  apostle,  glad  to  lead,  glad 
to  control,  glad  to  be  the  state's  foremost  figure.  But 
in  the  midst  of  his  inspiration  the  ghost  of  the  mur- 
dered Meredith  had  intruded  itself,  forewarning  by  its 
appearance  the  coming  of  the  living  brother  as  the 
avenger  of  the  dead.  The  chance  for  his  life  work,  the 
gratification  of  his  ambitions,  the  success  of  all  his 
labors,  had  come — to  pass  him  by  like  a  breath  of 
fragrant  air,  leaving  him  worsted,  his  whole  existence  a 
failure  to  the  very  end;  begun  in  poverty,  continued 
in  crime,  ended,  in  spite  of  struggles  and  battles,  in 
tevilement  and  shame. 

The  thought  stung  him  like  a  lash.  If  only  there 
were  some  way  to  prevent  discovery — some  way  that, 
doing  what  his  friends  asked  of  him,  he  might  still 
escape  the  punishment  and  degradation  of  that  deed 
done  so  long  ago  in  self-defense. 

He  paced  the  floor,  striding  up  and  down,  his  eyes 
staring  ahead  into  vacancy,  his  fists  clenched. 

"  There  is  no  way  out  of  it.  I  can't  escape  the  thing 
that's  pursuing  me.  I  can't  do  anything  but  go  on  and 
on  with  a  smiling  face  until  I  come  to  a  dead  stop  be- 
fore the  halter — -caught,  caught !  "  he  muttered. 


292  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

It  was  the  bitterness  of  that  one  thing — being 
caught — that  caused  his  greatest  anguish;  the  degra- 
dation of  standing  at  last  before  Theodora,  a  con- 
fessed criminal  under  sentence  of  the  law. 

He  had  no  sorrow  for  any  lost  dignity  or  prestige, 
vanished  almost  before  either  was  secured,  or  for  a, 
blackened  memory  replacing  the  honorable  reputation 
won  through  years  of  honest  endeavor.  He  had  no 
remorse  over  the  deed  done  in  a  moment  of  excitement 
when  nothing  was  left  him  but  self-defense  at  any 
cost.  Only  the  unavailing,  haunting  sorrow  and 
shame  of  seeing  Theo's  eyes  turned  from  him  in  con- 
tempt or  something  worse,  his  personal  honor  smirched 
before  the  woman  he  loved. 

As  the  hours  passed,  his  torment  increased.  Finally, 
he  could  no  longer  endure  it.  Hurrying  out  of  his 
room,  he  fairly  ran  down  the  stairs,  seeking  Theo, 
determined  to  keep  his  happiness  until  it  was  wrenched 
from  him. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon.  Theo  sat  on  the  porch, 
busy  at  her  mending;  by  her  side  was  a  table  covered 
with  sewing  utensils — thread,  needles,  scissors,  a  cush- 
ion and  work-box.  Two  little  piles  of  clothing,  one 
mended  and  neatly  folded,  the  other  still  to  be  gone 
over,  were  close  at  hand. 

She  looked  up  at  the  man,  her  smile  of  welcome 
rather  conscious,  her  face  flushed.  The  truth  was, 
Theodora  had  been  thinking  again  of  past  years,  ask- 
ing herself  a  thousand  questions  concerning  Jarvis 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  293 

which  were  quite  beyond  her  power  to  answer,  but 
were  delicious  nevertheless.  They  floated  through 
her  mind  like  visions  of  a  waking  dream,  not  quite 
distinct,  not  clearly  to  be  understood.  But  lately  she 
had  grown  into  the  habit  of  interpreting  them  in  her 
own  way,  allowing  her  imagination  full  rein.  It  was 
like  yielding  to  a  fairy  spell  of  witchery.  Her  happi- 
ness increased  hourly  after  she  began  this  practice. 

Jarvis  sat  down  on  the  rail  of  the  porch.  He  lighted 
a  cigarette,  but  after  two  or  three  whiffs  tossed  it 
away,  watching  where  it  fell.  A  short,  green  stubble 
was  making  its  appearance  where  the  earth  had  been 
scarred  by  burning  oil.  He  spoke  of  the  fire  and  of  the 
events  that  had  followed  one  after  another  so  swiftly 
since  that  terrible  disaster.  As  a  matter  of  course,  this 
led  up  to  the  performance  of  the  night  before — the 
wrecking  of  the  track,  the  coming  of  the  militia,  the 
general  feeling  of  uneasiness  throughout  the  state. 

"  Theo,"  he  said,  suddenly,  "  you  have  heard,  I  sup- 
pose, what  they  intend  to  do  now — these  oilmen  ?  " 

"No,  dear;  nothing  dreadful,  I  hope." 

"Dreadful,  no;  unless  it  is  dreadful  for  me,"  he 
said,  grimly.  "  They  are  going  to  try  to  run  me  for 
governor." 

Theo  gasped.  Her  eyes  grew  bright.  She  dropped 
her  sewing  in  her  lap.  "  Bud,  you  mean  it  ?  You 
will  go  to  the  capital,  be  governor  of  this  whole 
state?" 

"  That's   what   they   want.     You   know  they   are 


294  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

bound  naturally  to  try  everything,  to  get  a  hold  some- 
how. I  can't  imagine  why  they  happened  to  settle  on 
me." 

"  Well,  I  can,"  put  in  Theo,  indignantly.  "  I  can't 
imagine  their  putting  up  anyone  else." 

"  But  suppose  I  don't  want  to  run?  " 

"Not  want  to?" 

"  Suppose  that  if  I  allow  my  name  to  go  on  being 
used,  and  people  all  over  the  state,  siding  with  us  as 
against  the  trust,  rally  to  me,  believing  I  am  an  honest 
man  with  a  good  record,  and  everyone's  faith  is 
strong  in  me — suppose  just  at  that  time  something 
happens  to  prove  I  am  not  worthy  their  trust.  Sup- 
pose I  should  be  shown  up  a — a  thief,  or  something 
worse.  All  Texas  would  echo  with  the  deception.  I 
would  be  a  man  disgraced,  shamed,  never  again  to 
raise  my  head." 

Theodora  rose  abruptly  from  her  chair,  her  great 
eyes  flashing. 

"What  are  you  saying?"  she  exclaimed.  "How 
can  you  talk  so?  You  have  no  right  to  revile  yourself, 
even  to  me — yes — especially  to  me.  I,  who  would 
stake  my  life  on  your  honesty — I  will  not  listen  to 
you." 

"  Do  you  care  so  very  much  what  I  am — what  I 
have  been  ?  "  he  asked. 

The  girl's  voice  trembled  a  little  as  she  replied,  "  I 
don't  believe  you  can  know  just  how  I  care,  how  I  feel. 
Why,  think,  you  are  all  the  world  to  me.  I  have  no 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  295 

one  else.  I  never  had  anyone  else,  not  since  I  was  a 
little  child.  All  my  life  I  have  looked  up  to  you  as  a 
hero,  my  ideal  man.  When  you  used  to  be  away  from 
me  I  counted  the  days  till  you  came  back.  When  you 
brought  me  here  to  this  little  house,  I  was  so  happy — 
as  happy  as  a  bride  might  be  in  the  home  she  goes  to 
with  the  husband  she  loves." 

A  shadow  came  over  the  man's  face. 

"  All  my  thoughts  have  centered  in  you  for  years. 
My  greatest  desire  has  been  to  make  you  as  happy  as 
I  am.  And  I  have  wanted  you  to  see  that  in  just  liv- 
ing here  with  you,  doing  everything  I  could  for  you, 
I  was  perfectly  contented.  When  those  miserable 
troubles  came  one  after  another  so  fast,  I  cried  myself 
to  sleep  many,  many  nights.  It  was  not  so  much  what 
was  happening  as  the  unfairness  of  your  being  ruined 
after  working  hard  to  make  a  place  for  us  both. 
Sometimes  I  couldn't  even  say  my  prayers,  I  was  so 
rebellious  at  what  was  manifestly  unjust.  Then  I  saw 
your  courage,  and  I  grew  ashamed  of  myself.  But  the 
more  ashamed  I  became  of  my  weakness,  the  prouder 
I  was  of  you.  You  did  not  fail  me,  even  there.  You 
only  made  my  knowledge  of  you  more  secure,  for  you 
see  I  would  not  have  blamed  you  at  all  if  you  had 
clone  as  the  other  men  did — sworn  and  stormed  and 
stood  ready  to  fight.  But  when  you  accepted 
everything  so  calmly,  raising  yourself  by  your  actions 
so  far  above  every  other  man  that  even  they  them- 
selves saw  your  nobleness  and  strength,  then  all  my 


296  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

hard  thoughts  vanished.  It  was  splendid.  I  could 
have  shouted  with  joy  over  your  dignity.  So,  know- 
ing you  like  this,  as  I  have  known  you  always,  you 
ask  if  I  care  what  you  are  or  have  been.  Care?  Why, 
it  is  almost  as  though  my  own  self-respect  was  at 
stake.  But  you  can't  frighten  me.  I  know  what  you 
are.  You  are  a  good  man.  No  one  in  all  the  world, 
no,  not  even  an  angel  from  heaven,  could  convince  me 
of  anything  else." 

She  finished  breathlessly.  By  now  she  was  stand- 
ing so  close  to  Jarvis  that  as  he  turned,  one  of  his  hands 
fell  on  one  of  hers.  Instantly  his  fingers  tightened 
round  it  in  a  warm  clasp.  He  paused  a  second,  look- 
ing into  her  wide-open  eyes,  reading  there  a  confession 
which  her  lips  had  refused  to  make.  Yet  for  the  mo- 
ment her  faith  in  him  was  the  uppermost  thing  in  his 
mind.  He  could  not  disturb  it.  The  strength  of  his 
long-pent-up  love  was  clamoring  aloud  for  freedom, 
but  rather  than  disturb  that  moment  of  overpowering 
happiness,  he  would  have  sat  speechless  forever,  con- 
tented in  feeling  her  close  beside  him,  her  hands  in  his. 

But  finally  the  desire  for  something  definite,  some 
decision  that  would  end  the  uncertainty  he  had 
writhed  under  for  months  past,  made  him  break  the 
silence. 

"  Theo,"  he  cried,  "  if — if  things  had  been  different 
— if  your  mother  had  lived  and  I  had  come  to  you,  not 
as  a  brother,  not  as  a  relative  at  all,  but  as  a  man 
humbled  with  love  for  you,  begging  you  to  accept  his 
name,  his  home — himself,  what  would  you  have  said?  " 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  297 

His  heart  seemed  strained  to  bursting.  All  the 
strength  of  his  life  had  gone  out  in  the  question  he 
asked.  He  stood  suddenly  upright,  still  clasping  both 
her  hands  in  his,  waiting  for  her  reply. 

Her  face  went  suddenly  crimson,  then  quite  as  ab- 
ruptly all  color  fled,  leaving  her  white  as  marble;  but 
she  did  not  move,  nor  did  her  eyes  leave  his  face. 

"  I  would  have  said,"  her  voice  was  raised  barely 
above  a  whisper,  "  that  I  loved  you.  That  always, 
from  the  very  beginning,  I  had  loved  you.  That  if 
you  had  not  asked  me  for  my  love,  my  heart  would 
have  remained  unpledged.  But,"  she  cried,  her  tone 
changing,  "  I  am  ashamed  to  say  the  words  that  are 
trembling  on  my  lips,  waiting  to  be  spoken.  They  are 
not  modest  or  maidenly — I  don't  know  what  has  hap- 
pened— I  am  afraid — something  is  wrong — you  are 
only  my  brother,  yet  I  am  caring  for  you,  thinking  of 
you  with  a  feeling  that  is  not  like  a  sister's  affection. 
It  is  not  right.  What  does  it  all  mean?  " 

Tears  brimmed  her  eyes.  A  tumult  was  raging  in 
her  mind.  She  feared,  she  hardly  knew  what.  Her 
emotions  were  outraging  all  her  innate  sense  of  right. 

If  Jarvis  had  not  held  her,  she  would  have  turned 
and  fled,  hiding  herself  from  his  gaze,  burying  her 
face  from  the  sight  of  her  own  shamed  eyes. 

But  abruptly,  Jarvis,  filled  with  a  delight  such  as 
he  had  never  before  known,  forgot  everything.  Doubt, 
care,  worry  disappeared.  Argument  ceased  in  his 
mind.  The  realization  of  what  had  come  to  him  over- 


298  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

rode  every  other  consideration.  The  light  of  the  whole 
world  changed  to  this  man  who  had  known  so  little 
of  the  joys  of  life. 

She  loved  him.  What  mattered  anything  else  ?  He 
bent  his  head  and,  with  his  heart  on  his  lips,  kissed 
her  upon  her  hair,  her  eyes,  her  warm,  soft  cheeks. 

He  could  not  speak.  He  could  think  of  no  words  to 
say  that  would  express  what  he  felt.  Nor  would  any 
explanation  come.  Tears  were  in  his  eyes.  His 
exuberance  bordered  on  ecstasy.  The  moment  was 
one  of  expanding,  exulting  happiness,  never  to  be  for- 
gotten, never  to  be  relived  in  its  present  intensity. 

Nor  had  Theodora  need  of  explanations.  On  the 
instant  all  those  past  doubts,  those  hazy  remembrances 
that  lingered  in  her  thoughts  only  waiting  the  oppor- 
tunity to  assert  themselves,  rose  now  at  one  bound 
from  fanciful  dreams  to  clear  facts.  The  only  wonder 
was  how  she  had  kept  them  down  so  long.  Everything 
for  a  long  time  past  had  pointed  to  but  one  thing,  but 
one  solution.  If  she  had  been  quite  honest  with  her 
heart,  the  confession  of  the  truth  would  have  come 
weeks  before. 

She  recalled  all  the  days  in  their  home  life  together. 
She  had  been  so  happy  in  that  life.  Busy  at  her 
work,  never  lonely,  going  and  coming,  singing,  con- 
tented, wanting  nothing  and  no  one  as  long  as  Jarvis 
was  near.  She  remembered  how,  as  a  mere  girl  at 
the  convent,  she  had  watched  and  waited  for  Jarvis' 
brief  visits,  crying  herself  to  sleep  night  after  night 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  209 

after  these  visits  were  over,  and  months  unrolled  them- 
selves between  his  departures  and  the  time  of  his 
coming  again.  All  along  her  imagination  had  pic- 
tured out  the  road  of  her  heart's  desire.  Love  for 
him  had  been  born  in  her  long  ago — that  love  of.  a 
woman  for  a  man,  pure,  self-sacrificing,  supreme, 
transcending  in  strength  and  holiness  all  other  earthly 
emotions.  Long  ago  she  had  given  herself  to  him 
mentally — now  she  was  ready  to  yield  herself  phys- 
ically. 

She  slipped  her  hands  from  his  gently,  slowly,  then 
with  a  movement  of  infinite  tenderness,  infinite  self- 
abandonment,  infinite  trust,  she  put  both  arms  about 
his  neck  and  drew  herself  close  in  his  embrace. 

The  sun  was  falling  towards  the  western  horizon; 
the  shadows  lengthened,  their  color  deepening.  The 
soft,  filmy  white  clouds  playing  in  the  heavens  timidly 
stopped  their  game  to  watch  the  great  orb  sink  from 
sight.  Then,  all  subdued  by  his  parting  caress,  they 
crept  closer  to  the  blue  mother  sky,  shimmering  with 
the  reflection  of  golden  rays  and  rosy  with  embarrass- 
ment. There  was  not  a  sound  anywhere.  The  whole 
world  seemed  wrapped  in  a  great,  unbreakable  slum- 
ber. The  smell  of  roses  and  heliotrope  and  jessamine 
rose  on  the  air,  the  slow  passing  breath  of  perfume 
from  Theodora's  little  garden. 

Still  the  two  waited,  not  speaking,  their  arms  about 
one  another.  They  had  no  consciousness  of  passing 
time.  They  had  entered  a  new  world.  Earthly  things 


300  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

had  no  claim  on  them.  They  were  living  the  fairy 
legend  of  their  own  awakening  love  story. 

By  almost  imperceptible  degrees  the  night  advanced. 
Darkness  descended,  drawing  its  cloak  closer  and 
closer.  But  suddenly,  before  the  earth  could  be  ob- 
scured, a  new  light  rose  to  the  rescue.  The  moon 
abruptly  lifted  its  round  face,  a  golden  gleam  of 
beauty,  and  under  its  illumination  distant  objects  came 
into  view.  The  garden  shimmered  in  resplendent 
coloring.  Far  away  the  sweep  of  rough  prairie  land 
unrolled  itself,  becoming  by  the  mystic  light  lovely  as 
a  land  of  enchantment.  The  convent,  built  in  the 
shape  of  a  cross,  glowing  and  gleaming  on  the  eminence 
that  kept  it  apart  from  the  abodes  of  men  and  shielded 
it  from  scenes  of  strife,  turmoil  and  human  passions, 
was  the  very  essence  of  peace,  the  very  symbol  of  re- 
ligion. The  spirit  of  benediction  emanated  from  its 
white  walls,  wafting  to  the  world  at  its  feet. 

The  delicious  fragrance  of  the  newly  awakened 
flowers  was  like  a  caress.  Never  had  evening  been 
lovelier.  It  was  delicious  beyond  words,  peaceful  be- 
yond expression. 

Hardly  daring  to  breathe,  Jarvis  lifted  his  head. 
He  had  no  thought  of  time,  of  place,  of  what  was 
before  him.  His  boundless  happiness  in  the  realiza- 
tion that  the  love  he  gave  was  also  returned,  held  him 
in  the  throes  of  a  mighty  spell. 

He  looked  at  her,  seeing  nothing  else.  There  was  a 
prayer  on  his  lips,  a  vast  humbleness  in  his  thoughts. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  301 

She  stood  at  his  side  like  a  vision  realized,  the  spirit 
of  the  moon  come  to  earth.  The  hazy  light  of  the 
golden  orb  played  over  her  features.  Her  face  was 
very  pale,  but  never  had  she  seemed  so  young,  never 
had  her  beauty  been  so  matchless.  It  was  all  but  im- 
mortal. Her  eyes  were  alight  with  the  knowledge  of 
that  supreme  love  just  dawning  into  complete  con- 
sciousness. It  hung  above  her  like  a  halo,  radiating  its 
glory  over  her  head,  her  face,  her  figure.  She  was  no 
longer  confused,  no  longer  afraid.  All  sense  of  mys- 
tery had  fallen  away,  and  in  an  instant  her  whole 
being  had  readjusted  itself.  She  entered  the  realm  of 
love  as  a  queen  comes  into  her  own,  with  no  shrinking, 
no  hesitating,  no  false  embarrassment,  only  profound 
reverence. 

She  emerged  from  the  girlish  timidity  of  uncer- 
tainty into  the  womanly  dignity  of  complete  self- 
renunciation,  with  transcendent  calm,  incomparable 
gentleness,  infinite  modesty. 

The  air  about  them  vibrated  with  love,  the  scent  of 
the  flowers  exhaled  love,  the  whole  night  breathed 
love. 

Suddenly  a  sound  broke  from  out  of  the  gigantic 
silence.  Not  one  of  the  myriad  noises  of  the  night,  the 
sigh  of  the  wind,  the  rustle  of  the  trees,  the  stirring  of  a 
blossom,  but  something  definite,  sharp,  foreign  to  the 
breathing  of  the  earth.  Instantly  it  was  repeated, 
nearer  at  hand,  coming  from  the  direction  of  the  road. 

Jarvis   straightened  up,  watching,  listening,  quite 


302  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

involuntarily  placing  himself  to  shield  Theodora.  By 
the  clear  moonlight,  all  the  surrounding  country  lay 
exposed  to  view.  Peering  across  the  empty  driveway, 
he  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  black  shadow.  A  moment 
later  he  uttered  an  exclamation.  At  the  same  second 
a  figure  rose  from  a  crouching  position  near  the  hedge 
bordering  the  road,  hesitated  barely  long  enough  to 
throw  one  terrified  glance  over  his  shoulder,  then 
bounded  towards  the  porch. 

Jarvis  called  out  a  warning. 

"  Stop  where  you  are.  What  do  you  want  ?"  Then 
cried,  "  My  God,  it's  Orton!  " 

And  it  was  Orton.  No  longer  the  city-bred  man 
of  immaculate  dress  and  graceful  manner,  but  a  ter- 
rible figure  of  living  fear,  his  fingers  working  spas- 
modically, his  face  white  as  death,  covered  with  sweat, 
his  clothes  torn  and  dirty,  his  hair  disheveled,  his 
eyes  burning  with  fright,  his  breath  coming  in  crying 
gasps  from  terrific  running. 

He  darted  up  the  steps  onto  the  porch.  Sinking  into 
a  chair,  all  but  overcome  with  exhaustion,  he  panted 
between  breaths,  "  Water,  water !  " 

Theodora  hurried  into  the  house.  With  trembling 
hands  she  poured  some  whisky  into  a  glass,  filling  it 
to  the  brim  with  water. 

Orton  swallowed  it  with  the  eagerness  of  a  perish- 
ing man,  then  staggered  to  his  feet.  His  eyes  rolled  in 
furtive  glances,  his  teeth  were  set. 

"  Thank  you,"  he  gasped,  "  you  don't  know  what 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  303 

you've  done — hark !  "  An  expression  of  such  endless, 
agonized  dread  leaped  into  his  ashen  face  that  Theo- 
dora shrank  back  instinctively,  afraid  of  she  knew  not 
what,  and  Jarvis  cried : 

"  For  God's  sake,  man,  what  is  it  ?  " 

"  I'm  running  for  my  life.  I  haven't  much  start. 
She — she —  Oh,  they  are  coming!  "  He  broke  off 
with  a  groan. 

Even  Jarvis  could  hear  now.  The  thunder  of  gal- 
loping horses,  the  clamor  of  men's  voices  raised  in 
discussion.  Orton  darted  like  a  hare  down  the  steps. 
With  incredible  swiftness  he  disappeared  behind  the 
house,  tearing  on  and  on,  not  knowing  where  he  would 
go,  having  nothing  definite  in  mind  beyond  the 
evading  that  band  of  determined  men,  led  by  a  relent- 
less woman. 

Meanwhile,  nearer  and  nearer  came  the  party  of 
pursuers.  Hideous  noises  and  cries  split  the  brooding 
hush  of  the  night. 

A  sense  of  impending  terror  weighed  in  the  air 
where  such  a  little  time  before  there  was  only  sweet- 
ness and  vibrating  love. 

As  the  riders  loped  into  view,  to  Jarvis'  amazement 
he  caught  sight  of  Lawler  and  Hale.  Leading  the 
group,  their  animals  lathered  and  strained  with  the 
heartbreaking  pace,  was  young  Mason  and  a  woman. 
Neither  of  the  two  watchers  had  a  glimpse  of  her  face, 
but  as  she  passed,  the  same  thought  seized  them  both. 
It  was  Gabrielle.  Gabrielle  suddenly  come  back,  Gabri- 


304  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

elle  heading  the  trackers  of  the  man  that,  but  a  few 
short  days  before,  she  had  married  at  the  altar  of  God. 

Down  the  road  the  cavalcade  tore,  flogging  their 
tired  beasts,  shouting  encouragement  to  one  another, 
stopping  at  nothing.  And  long  after  they  were  out  of 
sight  the  ground  trembled  with  the  furious  beat  of  the 
running  horses. 

Theodora  turned  to  Jarvis  with  a  low,  shuddering 
cry. 

"  Oh,  what  do  you  suppose  has  happened  ?  What 
dreadful  thing  has  that  wretched  man  done  that  her 
love  could  have  turned  to  such  vengeful  fury  all  in 
so  short  a  time?  " 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  305 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

By  seven  o'clock  that  evening  the  Inn  was  packed 
to  suffocation  with  the  oilmen  of  Flaremont  and  the 
surrounding  district.  The  atmosphere  was  very  warm. 
Every  seat  at  every  table  was  occupied.  Tobacco 
smoke  ascended  in  a  blue  haze,  thickening  until  it  was 
impossible  to  see  across  the  room,  and  everywhere 
through  this  cloud  were  the  fumes  of  alcohol,  the 
clink  of  glasses,  a  confused  murmur  of  voices. 

It  had  been  Lawler's  intention  to  call  the  meeting 
to  order  immediately  on  Jarvis'  arrival.  He  expressed 
this  intention  to  the  men  who  surrounded  him,  receiv- 
ing their  unanimous  approval.  But  seven  o'clock  came 
and  no  Jarvis.  Five  minutes  passed,  then  ten.  Young 
Mason  went  to  the  door,  stepped  out  into  the  night 
and  stared  up  and  down  the  deserted  streets. 

"What  can  be  keeping  him?"  said  Hale,  as  Ran- 
dolph returned  with  the  announcement  of  no  one  in 
sight. 

"  You  are  sure  he  was  notified  ? "  asked  Lawler, 
anxiously. 

"  I  telephoned  to  him  myself,"  said  young  Mason, 
"  and  he  promised  to  come  at  seven." 

A  murmur  of  surprise  and  uneasiness  began  spread- 
so 


306  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

ing  throughout  the  room.  This  was  no  time  to  be  late. 
Was  Jarvis  to  fail  them  now?  He  on  whom  had 
centered  all  their  hopes;  he  on  whose  head  was  to 
devolve  the  responsibility  of  a  cause  that  meant  the 
whole  future  of  their  state?  In  that  moment  of  crisis 
had  he  suddenly  reconsidered,  afraid,  perhaps,  to  head  a 
party  that  intended  to  buck  against  the  trusts  ? 

Persistently  the  murmurs  spread,  growing,  enlarg- 
ing until  in  a  certain  corner  of  the  room  a  voice  broke 
out,  "  We  can  wait  until  we  get  tired.  Probably  it's 
the  old  story,  and  he's  sold  us  out  to  the  X.  &  Y." 

It  was  the  culmination  of  doubt  growing  into  sus- 
picion, the  first  direct  accusation  against  a  trusted  man. 
Stunned  by  the  sound  of  the  words,  an  instant  hush 
followed,  a  hush  pregnant  with  suspense  and  uneasi- 
ness. Then  Lawler  leaped  to  his  feet.  He  was  beside 
himself  with  anger,  ready  to  kill  the  man  who  assailed 
his  friend's  honor. 

"  You  will  retract  those  words  or  I  will  throw  you 
out  of  this  room  bodily,"  he  shouted,  shaking  his  fist 
in  the  direction  from  where  the  voice  had  come.  Then 
he  turned  to  the  audience.  "  And  what  kind  of  men  are 
you  who  will  sit  still  and  listen  to  such  an  insult  hurled 
at  the  man  whom  you  have  chosen  to  represent  you? 
He  has  accepted  your  trust  in  good  faith,  but  are  you 
doing  your  part?  He  yields  himself,  his  time,  his 
future,  at  your  call.  What  do  you  give  him  ?  There 
should  be  no  question  in  your  minds  as  to  this  delayed 
appearance  of  our  friend,  Mr.  Jarvis.  He  is  no  new, 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  307 

untried  man.  This  is  not  the  first  responsibility  he 
has  shouldered  for  you.  Unless  unavoidably  detained, 
detained  probably  on  affairs  relating  to  this  very  busi- 
ness of  yours,  a  cause  that  he  is  unfailingly  devoted  to, 
he  would  have  been  here  before  the  hour  set  for  the 
meeting.  I  would  sooner  accuse  any  man  present  of 
selling  us  out  than  James  Jarvis.  Again  I  ask  the 
man  who  uttered  those  words  to  apologize  to  the  chair 
and  to  the  gentlemen  present  at  this  meeting." 

There  was  a  silence,  broken  only  by  the  shifting  of 
bodies,  the  craning  of  necks,  an  occasional  creak  of  a 
chair. 

It  was  in  the  midst  of  this  silence  surcharged  with 
excitement,  into  this  room  crowded  with  men,  flushed, 
alert,  wondering  what  would  happen  next,  that  the 
front  door  opened  and  a  woman  stepped  in.  Unhesi- 
tatingly she  advanced  through  the  pall  of  smoke,  but 
so  intent  were  the  men  on  their  own  affairs  that  not 
until  she  stood  in  the  very  center,  within  a  dozen  paces 
of  Lawler,  were  the  crowd  made  aware  of  her  pres- 
ence. But  one  glance  at  her  was  enough  to>  make 
everything  else  sink  into  insignificance.  One  look  into 
that  ghastly  countenance,  and  she  became  the  focus  for 
every  eye.  Her  coming  was  so  abrupt,  so  startling, 
it  took  little  imagination  to  see  in  her  an  apparition. 
Even  young  Mason,  after  a  frightened  gasp  of 
"  Gabrielle!  "  stared  speechlessly  at  the  tragic  face  of 
his  sister. 

For  perhaps  the  first  time  in  all  her  life  Gabrielle 


308  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

forgot  to  pose  for  effect,  yet  perhaps  never  had  she 
called  to  herself  such  intense  attraction.  The  men's 
attention  was  riveted  on  her.  One  and  all  watched 
breathless,  expectant,  conscious  that  something  ter- 
rible was  here,  reading  the  dumb  note  of  undying 
tragedy  that  glimmered  now — would  always  glimmer 
in  her  eyes. 

She  told  what  she  had  to  say  brokenly,  discon- 
nectedly and  with  dull,  monotonous  voice.  But  from 
the  very  first  sentence  the  crowd  listened,  raging,  awe- 
struck, hardly  crediting  their  senses,  her  abnormal 
quiet  heightening  their  feelings  into  acute  personal 
resentment. 

Orton  was  a  negro.  Orton,  the  wearer  of  clothes, 
the  man  of  magnificent  manner,  the  exponent  of  city- 
bred  grace! 

The  discovery  of  this  fact  had  come  to  Gabrielle 
within  a  week  of  their  marriage,  and  in  the  second  of 
time  following  the  shock  of  that  discovery,  the  world 
changed  to  the  girl.  She  fled  panic-stricken  from  the 
sight  of  the  man  she  had  called  husband,  and  for  Hours 
stumbled  across  fields  or  staggered  down  deserted 
country  roads,  all  but  fainting,  still  going  on  and  on, 
the  very  threads  of  her  life  snapped. 

Terror,  rage,  grief — mad,  insensate,  endless  grief — 
were  galloping  through  her  mind,  each  seeking  full 
possession.  How  reason  remained  to  her  was  a  thing 
to  be  wondered  at.  She  tried  to  argue,  to  plan,  to  set 
any  one  thing  straight,  out  of  the  chaos  of  her  fren- 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  309 

zied  thoughts.  She  beat  her  head,  and  dug  her  fists  into 
her  eyes,  crying  aloud  for  help,  demanding  death. 

In  the  midst  of  her  ravings  a  terrible  idea  came 
to  Gabrielle.  An  idea  that  swooped  down  like  an  evil 
prowler  of  the  night,  ominous,  grisly,  but  driving  away 
all  else,  filling  every  channel  of  her  disordered  brain. 
She  would  creep  back  to  the  hotel  and  kill  Orton,  then 
rush  away  again,  anywhere,  out  into  the  darkness, 
moving  onward  and  onward  forever  if  necessary.  Her 
plans  did  not  cover  her  actions  beyond  the  murder. 
Even  the  consequences  of  such  an  act  seemed  immeasur- 
ably removed  from  her.  All  she  cared  for  was  the 
deed. 

She  had  been  sitting  on  a  fallen  log  near  the  road- 
side. Now  she  sprang  to  her  feet,  every  nerve  quiver- 
ing with  excitement.  Her  eyes  burned  with  unnatural 
cunning.  She  tried  to  think  of  methods  of  killing. 
She  wondered  if  he  would  struggle  or  fight,  and  in- 
stantly determined  to  give  him  no  chance  for  retali- 
ation. Her  aim  would  be  sure,  her  hand  strong,  and 
the  blow  would  be  dealt  in  the  back. 

She  walked  on.  The  hotel  came  in  sight.  In  a 
brief  lapse  of  time  she  would  see  him  again.  Memories 
crowded  in  on  her,  recollections  of  the  past.  Her  wed- 
ding-day, only  such  a  little  while  ago.  How  happy  she 
had  been !  She  thought  of  the  crowds,  the  music,  the 
supper,  the  admiration  she  had  received,  her  own 
haughtiness,  finally  the  going  away  with  the  man  in 
whom  she  took  such  pride.  She  recalled  with  a  shud- 


310  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

der  of  shame  her  vanity  at  his  clothes,  his  manners,  his 
personal  appearance,  his  distinct  good  breeding. 

The  memories  became  unendurable.  Gabrielle's 
chin  quivered.  An  agony  of  grief  swept  over  her, 
leaving  her  faint  and  sick.  What  a  dreadful  mistake 
it  had  all  been!  Do  what  she  might,  could  she  ever 
blot  out  the  knowledge  that  for  a  week  she  had  lived 
with  a  negro  as  his  wife?  She,  a  Southern  girl  of  high 
spirit,  untarnished  name  and  famous  beauty ;  she,  who 
had  scorned  those  of  his  blood,  reviling  at  them,  draw- 
ing her  skirts  closer  about  her  at  their  mere  mention. 

Year  after  year,  as  long  as  life  endured,  she  would 
see  before  her  his  face,  feel  his  caresses,  hear  his  low- 
pitched  musical  Southern  voice  uttering  her  name, 
calling  her  his  wife.  Never,  never,  never  while 
memory  endured,  could  she  kill  that.  Though  she 
murdered  him,  her  marriage  would  be  an  irrevocable 
fact,  haunting  her  of  what  had  been.  Her  suffering 
would  go  on  forever. 

Fresh  despair  seized  upon  her,  accompanied  by  a 
great  longing  for  her  mother.  She  sobbed  and  sobbed, 
burying  her  head  in  her  arms,  rocking  her  body.  Why 
was  she  made  to  suffer  like  this  ?  What  had  she  done 
to  deserve  such  revolting  punishment?  If  only  she 
could  inflict  such  suffering  on  him,  make  him  feel  the 
lash  of  punishment  on  his  back  before  he  died,  she 
could  face  the  future  with  a  braver  countenance.  Re- 
taliation would  be  sweet — very  sweet. 

Then  the  second  idea  came.    What  did  Southerners 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  311 

do  to  negroes  who  attempted  the  honor  of  their  daugh- 
ters ?  Burn  them.  Her  heart  gave  a  fierce  bound,  her 
eyes  rolled  wildly  as  though  she  feared  to  see  Orton 
before  her,  reading  the  thoughts  in  her  aching  head. 

If  only  she  could  get  him  back  to*  Flaremont  on 
some  pretext.  Get  him  there  without  awakening  a  sus- 
picion in  him  of  what  she  knew  and  what  she  sought, 
would  not  the  men  of  Flaremont  help  her  ? 

As  she  reached  this  point  in  her  narrative  a  dozen 
men  sprang  to  their  feet,  the  strain  of  silence  carried 
past  endurance.  A  throng  of  excited  faces  surged 
about  her.  Offers  of  assistance  rose  from  all  quarters. 
They  would  sit  and  listen  no  longer.  Action  was  what 
they  wanted,  the  action  of  men  roused  past  all  control, 
wanting  to  be  led  by  some  terrible  cause  to  a  deed  of 
death.  She  who,  alone  and  dishonored,  had  worked 
her  way  back  to  them,  to  the  men  of  Flaremont,  should 
not  be  deceived  in  her  faith  nor  denied  help. 

The  clamor  was  deafening.  Every  man  there 
wanted  to  start,  now,  at  once,  in  pursuit  of  revenge. 
The  brute  stirred  in  them.  Let  her  give  them  the 
scent,  put  them  on  his  track,  and  the  beast  who  had  so 
cruelly  wronged  her  should  pay  the  penalty. 

A  few  moments  later  two  dozen  men  on  horseback, 
led  by  the  girl  herself,  went  tearing  through  the  main 
street  of  Flaremont,  headed  for  the  X.  &  Y.  station, 
It  was  there  Gabrielle  had  left  Orton,  making  some 
excuse,  asking  him  to  await  her  return.  But  Orton 
had  not  been  so  unsuspicious  as  Gabrielle  believed. 


312  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

Weeks  and  months  at  playing  a  desperate  game  of 
deception  had  sharpened  Orton's  every  sense.  As 
Gabrielle  disappeared  toward  the  town,  the  man  hur- 
ried down  the  road  in  an  opposite  direction.  For 
some  unexplained  reason  his  one  thought  was  of  Cal- 
lister.  Callister,  the  man  he  had  always  half  feared 
and  more  than  half  disliked,  was  the  one  he  turned  to 
now.  If  he  could  reach  that  little  house  on  the  hill, 
he  would  be  safe. 

The  pursuers  halted  at  the  station.  Orton  was  no- 
where to  be  found.  More  than  that,  there  was  no  clue 
as  to  which  way  the  man  had  gone. 

"  He'll  make  for  the  open  country,  stopping  at  some 
house  for  shelter  till  he  can  get  across  the  prairie  into 
the  hills,"  called  one  of  the  men. 

Instinctively  eyes  were  turned  towards  the  line  of 
mountains,  vast  and  shadowy  in  the  distance. 

"  Then  head  down  the  road  leading  away  from 
town,  and  everyone  keep  a  sharp  lookout  for  shadows. 
The  moon  may  tell  the  story." 

Once  more  the  horses  were  whipped  into  a  swift 
gallop. 

"  If  only  we  had  the  dogs !  "  muttered  Lawler  to 
young  Mason,  who  was  riding  beside  him. 

Randolph  gave  a  nod.  During  the  entire  affair,  the 
boy  had  not  spoken  a  word.  It  seemed  as  though  he 
were  frozen  with  the  horror  and  disgrace  that  had 
come  to  his  beautiful  sister.  It  was  the  final  culmina- 
tion of  ill  fortune  that  had  hounded  the  family  so 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  313 

unceasingly.  One  by  one  his  ideals  had  been  shattered. 
His  hopes  were  dead.  His  belief  in  men's  integrity 
had  been  swept  aside,  buried  deep  under  doubts  and 
injustices,  never  to  rise  again.  His  spirit  was  broken, 
his  youth  gone.  He  no  longer  gripped  his  hands  or 
clenched  his  teeth,  aflame  with  anger  and  fierce  resent- 
ment, crying  out  the  creed  of  the  anarchist,  seeking 
readjustment  by  dynamite.  His  mind  was  limp.  On 
every  question  rested  the  verdict,  "  What's  the  use?  " 
He  no  longer  cared  what  happened. 

He  was  out  now  to  track  a  criminal.  But  he  did  it 
with  the  same  silent,  bitter  resentment  that  animated 
every  other  man  in  the  chase.  He  hardly  seemed  to 
take  the  matter  home  to  himself.  It  had  been  a  ter- 
rible catastrophe,  a  wrong  that  must  be  righted.  His 
manhood  rebelled  at  the  outrage.  But  it  would  have 
rebelled  in  the  same  degree  had  the  victim  been  a  com- 
plete stranger  instead  of  his  own  sister. 

He  was  utterly  crushed,  utterly  changed.  Never  had 
he  been  virile  enough  to  combat  with  the  big  matters  of 
life;  readjustments;  the  working  out  of  huge  differ- 
ences; the  corruptions  that  seem  for  the  moment  to 
dominate  the  good;  the  great  struggles  for  personal 
gains  that,  unchecked,  unimpeded,  sweep  aside  in  in- 
sistent selfishness  those  little  groups  of  human  gnats 
who  seek  to  protest  against  the  untrammeled  progress. 

His  nature,  womanish  in  many  ways,  relying  on 
sympathy,  demanding  affection,  could  have  found  a 
certain  strength  in  quiet  energies,  peaceful  measures, 


314  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

the  reign  of  good.  Surrounded  by  those  influences, 
he  could  have  stood  forth  in  manfulness,  doing  for 
others,  achieving  a  place  for  himself,  acting  unselfishly 
in  all  things.  He  would  have  won  a  home,  comforts 
for  his  mother,  a  wife,  and  love  for  himself,  finding 
in  these  things  complete  happiness.  But  how  much 
chance  was  there  left  for  all  this  ?  What  outlook  was 
there  for  him  ?  What  remained  for  him  to  do  ?  What 
even  was  the  use  in  trying  ?  It  was  a  hopeless  struggle, 
with  no  rifts  in  the  clouds.  Odds  greater  than  he 
could  cope  with  met  him  at  every  turn.  In  fact,  why 
try?  Why  care?  What  was  the  use  in  anything?  He 
had  been  beggared.  If  he  still  persisted,  he  courted 
death. 

As  the  party  passed  Jarvis'  place,  the  horses  were 
pulled  in  to  a  slower  pace  that  the  men  might  maintain 
a  sharp  lookout  to  right  and  left  for  traces  of  Orton. 
As  yet  they  had  no  glimpse  of  the  fugitive.  There 
was  not  a  sign  to  tell  whether  this  chase,  begun  on 
sheer  speculation,  would  end  successfully  or  in  a  flat 
failure. 

Once  one  of  the  number,  rising  in  his  stirrups, 
peering  down  at  the  road,  announced  that  he  thought 
he  "  saw  something." 

Instantly  half  of  the  riders  were  out  of  their  saddles, 
plunging  through  the  undergrowth,  beating  the  bushes 
with  their  whips,  listening  for  some  sound.  But  the 
search  was  bootless.  There  was  nothing.  After  ten 
minutes  wasted  in  the  effort,  the  party  was  off  again, 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  3l5 

their  sense  of  enmity  increasing  as  doubts  and  uncer- 
tainties multiplied. 

The  minutes  went  by.  Callister's  house,  showing 
white  in  the  strong  moonlight,  stood  out  in  plain  view 
on  the  hill.  By  degrees  the  feeling  took  possession  of 
the  men  that  unless  he  was  mounted,  Orton  could  not 
have  worked  his  way  much  beyond  this  point.  Spirits 
drooped.  Lawler  uttered  a  violent  exclamation  of 
disappointment.  He  argued  that,  if  their  man  had  fol- 
lowed this  road,  they  should  have  overtaken  him  a 
mile  back  of  where  they  were. 

"  If  we  don't  see  any  signs  of  him  up  the  road,  we 
might  stop  at  Mr.  Callister's  and  ask  if  he's  seen  any- 
one," suggested  a  voice. 

"  Well,  we  may  miss  him  to-night,  but  he  can't 
escape  us  in  the  end.  We'll  watch  the  trains,  then  in 
daylight  we  can  track  him.  It's  only  a  question  of 
watching  and  starving  him  out,"  announced  another. 

"  Dogs  would  do  the  trick.  Lord,  I  wish  we  had 
'em!" 

On  all  sides  suggestions  began  to  circulate. 

Gabrielle  made  no  comment.  She  sat  rigid,  her  face 
white  and  set,  her  eyes  burning  with  an  unnatural 
light. 

As  they  approached  the  trail  leading  to  Callister's, 
for  the  second  time  the  party  halted  and  young  Mason 
was  delegated  to  ride  up  the  hill,  making  certain  in- 
quiries of  Callister. 

The  boy,  for  he  was  scarcely  more,  turned  his  horse 


316  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

into  the  trail  making  up  the  steep  incline,  picking  the 
way  carefully,  the  posse  waiting  below,  sitting  silently 
on  their  saddles,  their  horses  steaming  and  panting, 
the  men  keeping  their  eyes  on  Randolph. 

Suddenly  half-way  up  the  hill  they  saw  him  rein 
in  his  horse  sharply.  A  shadow  outlined  itself  dis- 
tinctly on  the  road  in  front  of  him.  Then  a  figure 
emerged  from  the  bushes,  darted  out  into  the  open  and 
plunged  towards  the  house.  It  was  all  the  matter  of  a 
second's  time.  Mason,  startled  out  of  his  lethargy  for 
the  moment,  yelled  excitedly,  "  It's  Orton.  We've  got 
him.  Come  on,  come  on !  " 

The  cry  was  like  giving  a  new  scent  to  bloodhounds. 
At  full  gallop,  bending  forward  in  their  saddles,  utterly 
reckless  of  the  consequences,  regardless  of  life  or  limb, 
the  horsemen  dashed  up  the  steep,  narrow  trail  in  a 
furious  scramble  to  reach  the  top.  But  quick  as  they 
were,  the  fugitive  was  quicker.  His  worst  fears  were 
realized.  Enemies  were  after  him.  He  was  chased  by 
a  crowd  of  men  who  were  closing  in  on  him  and  would 
stop  at  nothing.  It  was  a  question  of  his  escape  or  his 
life;  he  knew  that  very  well,  but  he  had  no*  mind  to  be 
killed.  Fear  lent  him  speed.  Before  young  Mason 
reached  the  door,  Orton  had  burst  in  on  Callister,  a 
terrible  figure,  with  the  agony  of  death  and  the  frenzy 
of  fear  upon  him. 

It  was  the  figure  of  his  dream.  Instantly  Callister 
recognized  that.  The  livid  countenance,  staring  eyes, 
dropped  chin,  trembling  body.  Orton,  the  immaculate, 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  317 

stood  before  him  a  staggering  creature,  his  fine  clothes 
torn,  his  face  blood-streaked,  his  collar  gone,  his  shirt- 
front  ripped.  All  the  breath  seemed  gone  from  his 
body.  He  could  not  speak,  only  stood  steadying  him- 
self against  the  closed  door,  looking  at  Callister,  try- 
ing in  vain  to  ask  for  the  only  protection  that  would 
save  him. 

By  now  the  noise  outside  had  increased.  The  track- 
ers were  thundering  up  to  the  porch.  There  was  the 
sullen  growl  of  voices,  the  tramping  of  many  feet, 
short,  sharp  questions,  exulting  replies. 

Suddenly  Lawler's  voice  rang  out,  "  We've  got  him 
now,  sure!  Miss  Gabrielle,  your  work's  about  fin- 
ished." 

Involuntarily  Callister  shrank  back,  his  face  blanch- 
ing. The  move  and  look  steadied  Orton's  wits. 

"  For  God's  sake,"  he  began,  speaking  with  horrid 
rapidity,  "don't  let  them  take  me!  They'll  kill  me. 
I've  done  nothing  to  deserve  death.  I  wasn't  just 
honest,  perhaps,  but  I  should  not  be  killed  for  that.  It 
isn't  fair  not  to  give  me  a  show.  You  won't  let  them 
in?  Fifty  to  one  isn't  a  man's  fight.  Mr.  Callister, 
you'll  protect  me?  My  God,  you  won't  give  me  up  to 
them,  will  you?  " 

The  clamor  at  the  door  was  becoming  menacing. 
The  men  were  impatient.  Knocks,  pounds,  a  dozen 
voices  demanded  entrance.  As  Callister  advanced, 
Orton  fell  on  his  knees,  shrieking  in  terror,  "  You 
are  not  going  to  let  'em  in  ?  You  are  not  going  to  give 
me  up?  " 


318  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

Reason  was  fleeing  before  an  insane  fear. 

"  No,  I  am  not  going  to  give  you  up.  Be  a  man, 
Orton.  Let  me  get  to  this  door  before  they  break  it 
down.  I  will  see  fair  play;  be  assured  of  that." 

Orton  retreated  to  a  far  corner,  crouching  down  be- 
hind a  table,  his  eyes  rolling  ceaselessly  from  right  to 
left.  Surely  there  must  be  some  way  of  escape.  He 
was  not  going  to  be  led  out  from  this  room  to  die. 
Men  could  not  be  such  brutes.  If  he  could  only  slip 
out  unobserved,  before  the  others  came  in!  But  how 
was  he  going  to  get  away  ?  How  ?  How  ?  He  tried 
to  reason,  to  collect  his  thoughts.  But,  added  to  all 
his  mental  agony,  he  was  choked  with  thirst  and  so 
near  the  point  of  exhaustion  that  if  a  way  of  safety 
had  been  thrust  before  his  gaze,  his  legs  would  have 
refused  to  carry  his  body  across  the  room. 

Meanwhile  Callister  had  thrown  open  the  door,  and 
with  a  rush  the  pursuers  were  in  the  room,  carrying 
Callister  almost  off  his  feet,  forcing  him  against  the 
wall  before  he  had  time  to  step  one  side. 

"  Where  is  he  ?  Where  is  the  nigger  ?  "  shouted 
Hale. 

"  Bring  him  out !  " 

"Where's  the  coward?" 

"  You  don't  want  to  shield  a  nigger,  Mr.  Callister." 

"  We'll  get  him,  no  matter  where  he's  hid." 

Cries,  shouts,  oaths  rang  out  in  quick  succession. 

But  already  Lawler  had  spied  Orton. 

"  There  he  is,  hiding  behind  that  table.     Come  out 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  319 

of  there,  you  cur!  Step  out  before  I  help  you,  you 
poor  attempt  at  a  man,"  he  vociferated. 

As  if  the  words  were  some  prearranged  signal,  the 
oilmen  advanced  in  a  group  on  the  cowering1  creature. 
He  arose  from  his  crouching  position,  keeping  the  table 
between  him  and  his  enemies,  bracing  himself  with  a 
last  fleeting  show  of  courage. 

"  Stop  where  you  are!  The  first  one  of  you  that 
comes  near  will  get  hit."  And  at  the  words  the  muzzle 
of  a  revolver  confronted  the  crowd  who  were  swarm- 
ing in  on  him.  It  was  the  aggressiveness  of  a 
wounded  animal  at  bay. 

For  a  second  the  instinct  of  self-preservation  caught 
at  the  men,  checking  their  advance,  dominating  them 
against  their  wills. 

During  that  second  Callister  made  himself  heard. 
"  What  does  this  mean  ?  "  he  cried.  "  What  has  this 
man  done  that  you  pursue  him  into  my  house,  like 
mad  dogs  in  an  unequal  battle  against  one  of  their 
kind?  This  isn't  the  work  of  men,  it's  the  action  of 
cowards.  I  have  promised  Orton  my  protection,  and 
I'll  see  that  he  gets  it  unless  you  convince  me  that  you 
are  doing  right." 

The  sight  of  twenty  men,  alert,  fresh,  strong,  turn- 
ing against  this  one  poor  being,  trembling  on  the  verge 
of  total  collapse,  had  roused  Callister  as  no  appeal 
from  Orton  could  have  done.  The  scorn  in  his  voice 
communicated  itself  to  everyone  in  the  room.  There 
was  a  pause.  Some  of  the  party  looked  up  sheepishly, 
others  conferred  together  in  a  barely  audible  mutter. 


320  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

Callister  felt  his  advantage  and  followed  it  up.  As 
he  spoke,  he  was  listened  to  in  sullen  silence. 

"  Can't  any  of  you  answer?  "  he  demanded.  "  You, 
Lawler,  I  have  always  known  you  as  a  just  man,  even 
though  you  are  a  fire-eater.  What's  the  meaning  of 
this  performance  ?  " 

But  instead  of  Lawler's  voice,  it  was  Orton's  that 
rose  in  reply.  Some  sense  of  the  actor's  instinct  that 
feels  its  audience  awoke  in  the  wretched  man,  making 
him  see  in  the  present  situation  a  chance  for  producing 
an  effect,  even  winning  sympathy  to  himself.  He  low- 
ered his  revolver  and,  straightening  up,  faced  the  men. 

"  Let  me  answer  you,  Mr.  Callister.  None  of 
these  men  can- know  the  truth  of  this  performance,  or 
the  beginning  of  a  story  that  could  have  such  a  sequel 
as  this.  I  have  negro  blood  in  my  veins.  I  am  the  son 
of  a  mulatto  woman  and  a  white  man.  My  father  is  a 
gentleman — more  than  that,  rich,  highly  respected,  re- 
fined and  possessed  of  those  instincts  and  feelings  that 
come  from  a  long  line  of  fine  ancestors.  Every  one  of 
those  instincts  fell  to  me.  I  inherited  everything  from 
my  father,  nothing  from  my  mother.  I  was  not  a 
negro  in  anything  except  in  the  knowing  that  black 
blood  was  in  my  body.  It  was  a  fact  never  concealed 
from  me. 

"  You  who  are  white  can't  know,  can't  understand 
what  such  a  knowledge  means.  I  was  a  boy  whom  no 
one  would  have  dreamed  of  as  colored.  I  felt  as  white 
people  feel,  looked  as  white  people  looked,  enjoyed 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  321 

what  white  people  enjoyed.  Every  thought  and  feel- 
ing of  an  innate  refinement  and  cultivation  belonged 
to  me,  yet  I  was  damned  from  birth  by  the  fact  that  I 
was  black — not  white.  At  every  turn  I  was  con- 
fronted with  it.  No  one  apparently  cared  that  I  suf- 
fered. And  I  did  suffer.  God,  how  I  suffered !  " 

As  he  talked,  fear  fell  from  him,  even  the  impulse 
that  had  prompted  the  recital  of  his  life's  history.  For, 
as  the  details  of  his  miserable  boyhood  passed  in  re- 
view before  him,  all  else  paled  into  insignificance  be- 
side those  thoughts  and  recollections.  He  was  telling 
of  his  real  sorrow,  his  real  tragedy.  His  voice  grew 
clearer.  All  evidences  of  his  cowardly  flight  disap- 
peared from  his  countenance.  He  dominated  the 
crowd  that  had  come  seeking  his  life. 

"  It  was  nothing  to  me  that  this  father  whom  I 
never  saw  supplied  me  with  every  comfort,  even  with 
luxuries.  What  could  anything  amount  to  in  place  of 
that  ever-present  fact — that  I  was  in  all  law  a  negro?  " 
he  continued. 

"  The  older  I  grew,  the  more  I  was  goaded  and 
hounded.  There  were  enough  who  knew  of  my  birth 
to  prevent  my  ever  being  able  to  conceal  it.  No  chil- 
dren could  play  with  me  except  those  jet-black  crea- 
tures whom  I  loathed.  I  could  not  endure  the  way  I 
lived.  I  was  dumb  and  blind  to  every  issue  of  life  ex- 
cept that  hateful  fact  of  my  birth.  I  could  not  go  on 
much  longer  as  I  was. 

"  Finally  I  sought  out  my  father.    I  put  the  case  to 


322  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

him,  begging  him"  to  look  at  me,  to  put  himself  in  my 
place.  I  was  flesh  of  his  flesh,  blood  of  his  blood,  bone 
of  his  bone,  yet  I  was  a  colored  boy  with  no  place  in 
the  world  outside  the  confines  of  my  mother's  class 
and  race.  I  told  him  I  had  come  to  hear  my  sentence, 
not  to  threaten,  not  even  to  rebel,  but  that  my  deter- 
mination was  made.  If  he  turned  me  away  with  noth- 
ing to  hope  for  but  a  return  to  that  other  life,  I  would 
kill  myself.  I  had  reached  the  limit  of  my  endurance. 
My  mind  was  irrevocably  fixed. 

"  His  answer  gave  me  freedom.  Perhaps  it  was 
my  terrible  grief  that  touched  him,  perhaps  it  was  my 
close  resemblance  in  face  and  feature  to  himself.  He 
settled  a  fixed  income  on  me  and  told  me  to  go  where 
I  chose,  do  what  I  liked  and  live  like  a  white  man, 
away  from  those  who  knew  the  secret." 

There  was  a  moment's  hush.  The  turmoil  of  that 
old  deathless  grief,  reawakened,  tugging  at  his  heart, 
had  fastened  on  the  man  again,  scourging  him  with 
the  lash  of  shame  and  unhappiness.  His  dream  of  liv- 
ing away  from  those  old  shadows  was  gone.  His 
hopes  and  ambitions  for  a  place  in  life  had  perished. 
He  forgot  where  he  was,  forgot  by  whom  he  was  sur- 
rounded. His  appeal,  begun  in  a  vain  hope  for  safety, 
a  story  to  soften  those  men,  had  ended  in  oblivion  to 
all  his  surroundings.  The  great  ache  was  in  his  heart, 
tears  of  torture  rolled  down  his  pallid  cheeks. 

The  crowd  shifted  uneasily.  That  this  new  phase, 
this  true  insight  into  the  matter,  had  struck  a  respon- 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  323 

sive  chord,  it  could  not  be  denied.  Perhaps  the  poor 
devil  wasn't  so  bad  after  all.  The  force  of  all  the 
men's  enmity,  their  anxiety  for  revenge,  softened. 
They  waited  for  Orton  to  continue,  every  eye  fixed 
on  him,  impressed  and  interested  in  spite  of  them- 
selves. 

"  I  traveled  and  traveled.  I  began  to  live.  At 
every  breath  I  drew,  I  said  to  myself,  '  I'm  free,  I'm 
white.  Life  is  sweet.'  I  began  to  love  things.  I 
watched  the  moon  and  the  stars  and  marveled.  I  sat 
by  the  sea  and  watched  the  sun  set  into  its  depths.  I 
loved  the  mountains  and  the  valleys,  the  trees  and 
flowers  and  the  creatures  of  earth,  and  believed  at  last 
in  the  goodness  of  the  Creator.  Once  or  twice  I  came 
across  people  who  knew  my  history.  I  fled  from  their 
sight  like  a  man  possessed.  I  could  not  have  that  old 
life  recalled,  the  old  sensations  revived.  I  could  not 
endure  to  be  reminded  of  that  which  I  was  struggling 
day  and  night  to  forget. 

"  I  came  here  by  accident.  I  remained  because  of  a 
woman.  There  was  the  first  huge  mistake,  the  first 
inexcusable  act  of  my  life — my  crime.  I  loved — as  a 
man  loves  but  once.  A  love  that  when  it  comes,  he 
braves  all,  dares  all,  to  win  and  possess.  I  told  noth- 
ing— why  should  I?  I  believed  I  was  safe.  I  had 
plenty  of  money  to  support  my  wife  in  ease.  I  had 
education.  By  virtue  of  instinct,  thought,  feeling 
and  inheritance  I  was  a  gentleman.  I  could  not  see 
that  I  wronged  her,  although  I  understood  that  in  her 
ignorance  lay  my  safety  and  her  happiness. 


324  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

"  How  she  discovered  the  truth  I  thought  so  care- 
fully hidden,  I  don't  know.  But  from  the  moment  of 
that  abrupt  start  for  Flaremont,  I  guessed  what  had 
occurred. 

"  I  have  played  my  game.  I  have  lost.  Why  I  fled 
for  my  life  I  don't  know.  I  have  no  desire  to  live.  I 
see  now  the  futility  of  trying  to  keep  hidden  the  posi- 
tive things  of  existence.  My  birth,  atom  though  I  am, 
cannot  be  suppressed.  It  will  rise  to  confront  me  at 
every  turn,  at  every  crisis.  It  is  a  hopeless,  hopeless 
struggle." 

The  man  stepped  from  behind  the  table.  He  ad- 
vanced towards  the  silent  group  circled  about  him. 
"  I  am  ready  to  go  with  you.  I  do  not  care  what  you 
do  with  me.  My  life  is  spent.  Only  make  the  end 
quick." 

But  not  one  from  the  crowd  made  a  move.  Their 
hearts  had  been  stirred,  their  minds  filled  with  new 
thoughts,  new  ideas.  They  held  their  peace,  looking 
at  one  another  embarrassed,  confused,  feeling  suddenly 
very  much  out  of  place.  Orton  could  have  passed 
on  and  out  of  the  house,  if  he  had  so  chosen,  without 
so  much  as  a  detaining  hand  stretched  out  in  his 
direction.  The  terrible  part  of  his  drama  had  been 
lived  to  completion.  What  came  now  would  be  but 
the  reeling  in  of  the  last  skeins  of  his  tangled  life's 
threads. 

With  great  deliberation,  Orton  crossed  to  where 
Callister  stood.  "  I  thank  you  for  the  protection  you 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  325 

gave  me  during  a  time  when  I  had  little  idea  of  what  I 
did.  I  shall  presume  on  your  hospitality  no  longer." 

Before  any  one  of  the  twenty  men  in  the  room 
guessed  what  he  was  about,  his  hand  carried  that 
revolver,  loaded  for  so  different  a  purpose,  to  his  own 
temple.  There  was  a  flash,  a  sharp  report,  an  excla- 
mation of  horror.  As  the  man  fell,  a  scream  rang  out, 
and  Callister  shrank  at  the  sound. 

Gabrielle  stood  at  the  open  door,  her  eyes  widened 
in  terror,  speechless,  bewildered  at  the  outcome.  Ani- 
mated only  by  a  single  thought  that  still  clung  to  her 
with  its  tenacity  of  purpose,  she  pointed  towards  the 
prostrate  figure. 

"  Bring  him  out;  carry  him  if  he  won't  walk.  He's 
only  pretending.  I've  been  getting  the  stake  ready. 
Bring  him  out.  I'll  tie  him,  yes,  and  light  the  match, 
too;  and  by  the  flare  of  his  burning  body  we  will  all 
dance  and  dance — and  dance.  He  cannot  escape  me — 
oh,  no;  oh,  no!  " 

The  words  rose  to  a  vast  shriek,  then  the  jangling 
nerves  snapped.  Her  voice  trailed  off  unintelligibly 
to  silence,  and  in  the  numbness  that  crept  slowly  over 
her,  Gabrielle  forgot  for  the  first  time  in  three  tortur- 
ous days  the  suffering,  the  shame,  the  anguish  she  had 
endured. 


326  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

The  campaign  of  the  Independent  oil  producers 
promised  to  be  both  lively  and  interesting.  All  in  a 
short  time  Lawler,  Hale,  young  Mason  and  Jarvis 
were  inextricably  involved  in  the  new  work  of  politics, 
and  the  committee,  organized  on  the  street  to  put 
Jarvis  forward  as  candidate  for  governor,  over- 
whelmed with  business.  Contrary  to  all  expectations, 
and  in  the  face  of  discouragement,  amusement  and 
ridicule,  Jarvis'  boom  grew  rapidly  all  over  the  state. 
Earnest  supporters  of  the  cause  he  represented  arose 
on  all  sides.  Men  who  for  years  had  taken  no  interest 
in  the  state  campaigns  that  were  invariably  arranged 
and  run  according  to  the  dictates  of  the  X.  &  Y.  Rail- 
road, suddenly  roused  themselves  to  an  active  interest. 

Perhaps  the  time  had  come  at  last  for  a  redress  of 
their  wrongs  by  the  ballot.  Perhaps  those  kings  who 
controlled  men,  courts,  politics,  laws,  were  to  be  come 
up  with  at  last  by  the  people.  Perhaps  a  halt  was 
about  to  be  called  to  their  unchecked  advance  over 
the  state,  their  reign  put  an  end  to,  the  usurping 
tyrants  banished  and  the  rule  of  the  people  begun.  It 
was  a  fight  worth  watching,  worth  taking  an  interest 
in.  The  people  were  tired  and  their  patience  abused 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  T>27 

by  the  reckless  and  compelling  influence  of  this  X.  & 
Y.  road  that  operated  under  the  giant  eye  of  a  cyclo- 
pean  trust. 

Hated,  dreaded,  railed  at,  as  it  had  been  for  years, 
the  road  had  gone  on  its  way,  carrying  out  its  plans, 
relegating  to  itself  whatever  it  needed,  commanding 
the  entire  territory  like  some  vast  army  organized  and 
directed  by  an  able  and  far-seeing  general.  It  owned 
the  state.  So  far,  for  any  man  to  utter  a  protest 
against  the  outrage  of  such  an  ownership  had  about 
the  effect  of  a  flea  that  seeks  to  annoy  an  elephant. 

But  everything  now  pointed  to  a  change.  One 
of  the  surprises  of  the  Independents'  campaign  had 
been  the  lack  of  any  effort  put  forth  by  the  adherents  of 
the  corporation  to  counteract  Jarvis'  ever-increasing 
popularity.  Even  the  trust  papers  that  were  the  con- 
fessed organs  of  the  X.  &  Y.,  working  solely  in  the 
road's  interest,  either  said  nothing  of  this  new  man  in 
politics,  or  in  a  conservative  and  respectful  way  com- 
mented on  the  candidate  from  Flaremont.  This  was 
so  contrary  to  the  usual  method  of  the  press  that  the 
effect  on  the  public  was  instantaneous.  Everywhere 
the  matter  was  openly  discussed,  and  Jarvis'  adherents 
beamed.  Never  had  they  dreamed  of  obtaining  so 
easy  a  start. 

The  political  managers  of  the  road  met  in  conven- 
tion and  nominated  their  man,  Gilson  Meredith.  It 
was  a  tame  affair  and  excited  small  comment.  The 
man  himself  had  suddenly  lost  his  pompous  manners, 


328  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

his  anxiety  to  keep  before  the  public.  He  was  no 
longer  voluble,  his  tongue  glib  with  ready  assertions. 
He  declined  interviews,  declaring  he  had  nothing  to 
say.  He  was  unfailingly  courteous,  smiling,  affable, 
bland,  but  he  would  not  talk,  yet  neither  did  he  con- 
vey the  idea  of  any  uneasiness  as  to  the  outcome  of 
the  final  election. 

All  these  circumstances  increased  the  exaltation  in 
the  camp  of  the  Flaremont  oilmen.  They  had  pre- 
pared to  put  up  a  great  fight,  but  things  were  all  com- 
ing their  way.  Hale  shouted  and  sang.  On  every 
occasion  he  would  mount  a  curb  somewhere  and  ad- 
dress himself  to  anyone  who  would  listen.  He  pos- 
sessed a  sudden  mania  for  speech-making.  Even 
Randolph's  heavy  face  brightened,  as  a  wandering 
gleam  of  hope  was  called  up  from  somewhere  out  of 
his  forlorn  heart. 

Only  Jarvis  understood;  understood,  yet  could  not 
explain.  He  had  wished  and  watched  and  prayed 
for  opposition — one  word  of  denunciation,  one  growl 
of  defiance  from  that  colossal  force  he  had  been  sent 
out  to  invite  to  mortal  combat.  If  for  one  brief  mo- 
ment the  managers  of  the  X.  &  Y.  had  shown  fear  of 
his  campaign,  Jarvis  would  have  shouted  for  joy.  But 
this  silence,  vast,  unbroken,  inscrutable  to  the  out- 
siders but  very  clear  to  him,  was  pregnant  with  his 
doom — a  doom  that  would  descend  upon  him,  carry- 
ing with  it  the  weight  of  death. 

Perhaps  of  all  the  opponents  in  the  state  who  might 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  329 

have  run  for  the  Independents,  not  one  could  have 
been  so  to  the  trust's  liking  as  himself.  For  they  had 
him  cinched;  he  never  forgot  that. 

Occasionally,  in  a  kind  of  curious  desperation, 
Jarvis  wondered  what  proof  would  be  offered  against 
him  when  the  time  was  ripe  for  accusation,  and  if  the 
charge  would  be  actual  murder.  But  by  whatever 
means  they  would  overthrow  him,  this  corporation 
had  no  fear  of  defeat.  It  progressed  as  calmly  on  its 
way  now  as  always,  its  cohorts  just  as  well  disciplined, 
its  methods  just  as  irresistible,  its  results  just  as  indis- 
putable. It  was  not  necessary  for  the  general  public 
to  understand.  Sure  of  its  power,  conscious  that  its 
wishes  were  law,  knowing  that  it  could  well  afford  to 
be  quiet,  unruffled,  even  dignified,  this  force  advanced 
.on  its  foes.  Yet  if  honesty  did  not  win,  they  were 
ready  to  spread  pitfalls.  They  were  equally  prepared 
to  bribe,  corrupt,  resort  to  any  knavery  and  trickery, 
any  meanness  to  overcome  their  enemies.  Nothing 
daunted  them.  Not  the  least  of  their  faultfinders 
should  escape.  They  showed  neither  mercy  nor 
humanity  to  opposers. 

Daily  the  absurdity,  the  utter  futility  of  what  he  was 
being  put  forward  to  do,  took  stronger  hold  of  Jarvis. 
At  the  same  time  dread  and  shame  grew  in  his  heart, 
weighing  him  down  with  a  leaden  uneasiness.  How 
could  these  oilmen  dream  they  were  going  to  get  the 
better  of  the  railroad?  Instead  of  rejoicing,  seeing 
victory  perched  on  the  shoulder  of  silence,  why  didn't 


330  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

their  common  sense  tell  them  that  the  X.  &  Y.  was 
simply  waiting  the  favorable  moment  when  to  speak 
was  to  condemn?  These  Independents  should  have 
known  better.  They  who  had  crossed  lances  with  a 
trust  should  have  realized  by  now  the  resources,  the 
impregnability,  the  impossibility  of  balking  a  gigantic 
organism  in  any  matter  of  grave  moment.  Anyone 
could  see  with  half  an  eye  that  absolute  control  of  the 
state's  politics  was  essential  to  the  X.  &  Y.  If  the 
Independents  would  only  wake  up  to  this  ostentatious 
silence  of  the  road,  would  only  once  suggest  to  him  that 
perhaps  the  enemy  was  playing  a  deeper  game  than  ap- 
peared on  the  surface,  it  would  give  him  a  chance  to 
speak  before  it  was  too  late. 

But  nothing  of  the  sort  happened.  Jarvis  was 
caught  in  the  current  of  events,  swept  along  with  a 
dizzying  rapidity  he  hardly  knew  where  and  with 
never  a  chance  to  break  loose. 

The  executive  committee  evinced  a  wonderful  apti- 
tude for  politics.  Lawler  especially  was  making  a 
name  for  himself.  He  was  working  for  the  realization 
of  a  dream,  and  he  went  about  its  accomplishment  with 
the  readiness  of  an  old-time  campaigner.  He  began 
by  making  himself  everyone's  friend.  At  all  times  his 
affability  was  unfailing.  By  a  supreme  effort  he  even 
succeeded  in  curbing  his  temper  and  overcame  his  in- 
tolerance of  others'  opinions  to  such  an  extent  that  he 
could  listen  calmly  to  their  expressions.  He  was 
going  to  seize  every  opportunity  that  advanced  his 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  331 

candidate,  but  at  the  same  time  he  took  care  that  his 
own  popularity  extended.  He  had  come  into  the  field 
of  politics  unknown,  untried,  standing  sponsor  for  a 
new  party.  But  instead  of  failing,  he  was  conducting 
a  campaign  that  called  immediate  attention  to  himself 
and  would  live  memorable  in  the  history  of  Texas. 

Other  leaders  began  to  look  up  to  him.  He  was  con- 
sulted, advised  with,  in  every  sense  a  central  figure. 
He  showed  a  veritable  genius  for  detail,  nothing  being 
too  trivial  for  his  attention.  He  was  full  of  plans  and 
devices.  Every  man  who  could  vote  was  to  be  looked 
after  and  won.  And  while  not  a  doubt  existed  in  Law- 
ler's  mind  as  to  the  outcome,  and  all  the  time  he  was 
seeing  the  Independents'  purpose  an  assured  success, 
he  never  for  a  moment  relaxed  his  vigilance,  nor 
loosened  his  unshakable  tenacity. 

The  convention  that  nominated  Jarvis  was  a  notable 
one.  But  it  remained  for  the  candidate's  own  speech 
to  sweep  the  delegates  off  their  feet  with  excitement 
and  enthusiasm  and  turn  the  tide  all  in  his  favor.  In 
the  face  of  certain  calamity,  with  his  eyes  wide  open 
to  the  result,  with  his  whole  mentality  revolting  against 
the  acceptance  of  this  nomination,  with  his  imagina- 
tion on  fire,  and  utterly  beside  himself  with  a  species  of 
self-pity  and  horror,  he  stepped  forward  to  the  speak- 
ers' stand,  turned  towards  the  audience,  and  made  the 
effort  of  his  life  to  secure  the  very  thing  that  would 
bring  upon  himself  crowning  disaster;  incurring  the 
fearful  vengeance  of  the  trust  and  its  servant. 


332  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

There  was  no  inspiration  of  the  moment  to  make 
him  forget  what  was  so  indelibly  printed  on  his  mind. 
No  stress  of  emotions,  not  even  the  knowledge  that  he 
was  holding  that  vast  audience  under  the  spell  of  his 
words,  to  help  him  through.  There  was  nothing  tend- 
ing to  lessen  the  strain  and  the  understanding  that 
with  every  sentence  he  uttered,  every  vote  that  he  won, 
he  brought  that  overshadowing  doom  perceptibly 
nearer. 

He  did  what  was  expected  of  him,  accomplished 
what  Lawler  hoped  for  and  counted  on.  Calmly, 
coldly,  deliberately,  swayed  by  no  impulse  of  excite- 
ment, he  condemned  himself  to  the  scaffold  for  the 
murder  of  Foster  Meredith,  that  Gilson  Meredith,  the 
railroad's  candidate,  might  become  governor  of  the 
state. 

When  the  final  phrases  were  finished  and  Jarvis 
ceased  speaking,  he  turned  away  from  the  stage,  hardly 
conscious  of  the  pandemonium  that  had  broken  loose. 
The  convention  was  in  confusion,  the  continued  roar 
of  applause  drowned  into  an  undertone  by  the  calls 
and  yells  of  enthusiasm.  Every  man  in  the  hall  stood 
on  his  feet,  shouting,  gesticulating.  In  the  madness 
of  the  moment  all  restraint  fled.  All  at  once  a  band 
stationed  at  the  extreme  end  of  the  building  broke 
into  a  quick,  stirring  tune.  It  was  what  was  needed. 
On  the  instant,  delegates  all  through  the  building 
seized  their  standards  and  fell  into  line,  as  at  some 
given  and  prearranged  signal. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  333 

The  roar  increased.  A  veritable  tornado  of  sounds 
leaped  from  every  side.  Songs,  the  trampling  of  feet, 
the  shrill  blasts  of  music,  howls  of  enthusiasm,  surged 
to  the  very  rafters  of  the  hall,  piercing  the  roof  and 
vibrating  out  into  the  open  air  beyond. 

Jarvis  was  the  man,  the  cause  he  represented  the 
cause.  It  was  not  the  result  of  a  calm,  cool,  deliberate 
consideration  of  facts,  nor  of  what  the  candidate  rep- 
resented. Instead,  emotions  had  been  worked  upon, 
excitement  aroused,  sympathies  touched,  imagination 
inflamed  by  such  a  torrent  of  words  and  such  a  flow  of 
eloquence  that  the  most  conservative  listeners  forgot 
themselves,  their  feelings  swayed  irresistibly  by  Jarvis' 
mighty  oratory.  He  stampeded  the  convention. 

After  twenty  minutes  of  such  furious  commotion 
and  inarticulate  clamoring  as  had  never  before  been 
witnessed  in  a  convention  hall,  Jarvis'  nomination  was 
made  unanimous,  and  a  voice  in  the  crowd  cried  out 
his  name.  The  call  was  repeated.  A  hundred  voices 
echoed  the  first  cry,  demanding  his  appearance,  insist- 
ing on  another  speech.  But  Jarvis  was  not  to  be  seen. 
He  had  disappeared,  no  one  knew  where.  Lawler, 
distressed,  uneasy,  hunted  in  vain. 

In  the  midst  of  that  march,  surrounded  as  he  was 
by  men  gone  too  wild  with  the  moment's  excitement  to 
notice  his  departure,  Jarvis  had  turned  his  back  on 
the  throng.  He  crowded  his  way,  pushing  on  through 
the  length  of  the  room,  finally  reaching  a  small  door 
that  led  out  to  the  back  of  the  building.  His  face 
was  very  pale,  his  shoulders  bent,  his  lips  pressed 


334  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

tightly  together,  his  body  listless  with  a  semi-collapse. 
He  could  not  stay  a  moment  longer  and  uphold  the 
miserable  sham  of  his  wretched  position.  He  could 
not  face  that  crowd.  His  strength  was  gone,  his  cour- 
age fled.  He  had  betrayed  his  friends,  ruined  himself, 
abandoned  Theodora.  A  few  weeks  and  it  would 
all  be  known.  A  few  weeks  and  everything  he  held 
dearest  on  earth  would  be  swept  from  him,  gone  in 
this  last  struggle  to  gain  the  upper  hand  of  the  enemy. 

What  a  fool  he  was!  What  a  fool  he  had  been  all 
along!  How  much  better  if  long  ago,  when  the  re^ 
finery  had  burned  and  the  enemy  had  shown  itself  in 
its  true  colors,  he  had  simply  given  up  then,  taken 
Theodora  and  started  away  to  begin  over  again  some- 
where else.  It  would  have  meant  only  a  new  trial, 
taking  up  the  threads  of  toil  where  they  had  been 
broken  short.  He  would  have  been  safe,  Theodora 
would  have  been  his,  and  happiness  would  have  smiled 
on  them  both. 

But  now  his  well  was  worthless,  his  money  lost,  his 
hope  of  reinstating  himself  sacrificed.  Now  Theo- 
dora, all  unknown  to  herself,  stood  on  the  brink  of 
loneliness,  staring  the  world  in  the  face,  penniless, 
homeless,  almost  friendless,  and  he — condemned. 

"  It  isn't  fair — my  God,  it  isn't  fair !  There  should 
be  some  way  out  of  this,  some  corner  for  escape !  "  he 
cried,  his  eyes  staring  straight  before  him,  distended, 
horrified  as  though  he  saw  outlined  on  the  landscape 
the  picture  that  was  written  so  clearly  in  his  own 
mind. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  335 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

The  days  passed.  Jarvis  was  on  a  tour  of  the  state, 
making  speeches  at  every  town  he  came  to,  holding 
impromptu  receptions,  winning  respect,  commanding 
confidence,  securing  votes.  Sometimes  he  was  absent 
from  Flaremont  weeks  at  a  time,  making  trips  to  the 
extreme  ends  of  Texas,  overwhelmed  with  business 
engagements. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  absences,  Jarvis,  distressed 
at  leaving  her  alone,  had  urged  and  begged  Theo  to 
have  someone  stay  with  her,  but  the  girl  protested 
against  the  idea.  Her  mind  was  occupied  with  con- 
tentment and  happiness  to  the  exclusion  of  everything 
else.  She  had  no  time  to  brood,  to  be  lonely.  She 
followed  the  news  of  Jarvis'  progress  through  the  ter- 
ritory, seeing  in  it  the  triumphal  advance  of  a  conquer- 
ing monarch.  His  speeches  were  copied  in  every 
paper.  The  country-side  blazed  with  the  wonderful 
campaign  of  this  rising  political  leader.  Daily  his 
fame  spread. 

Theo's  pride  in  him  exceeded  all  bounds.  Her  child- 
ish notion  of  Jarvis  as  a  hero,  a  knight  of  old,  lived 
anew  in  her  imagination.  She  saw  him,  single- 
handed,  entering  the  combat  against  a  hydra-headed 


336  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

monster,  with  courage  for  his  only  weapon,  honor  as 
his  shield,  honesty  his  coat  of  mail.  He  was  the  pro- 
tector of  abused  and  helpless  men,  the  apostle  of  labor, 
the  champion  of  right.  What  a  victory  he  would 
achieve!  Armed  thus  he  was  invincible,  as  all  good 
is  invincible  before  wrongs. 

The  subject  of  love  had  never  been  spoken  between 
them  again  since  that  night  of  Orton's  tragic  death. 
At  first  she  had  wondered  at  this.  Then  seeing  in 
Jarvis'  face  certain  lines  of  trouble  and  knowing  the 
demands  made  so  continually  upon  him  since  the  be- 
ginning of  this  campaign,  she  ceased  to  think  much 
about  it.  Until  the  strenuous  activity  of  political  life 
was  over,  he  belonged  to  his  party.  Afterward — 
Her  hands  trembled  and  her  body  quivered  at  the 
vague  thoughts  of  that  "afterward." 

Meanwhile  Callister  was  living  in  a  state  of  mental 
uncertainty  and  irresoluteness  very  new  to  him.  The 
coming  of  Gabrielle  in  her  half-crazed  state  of  rage 
and  despair;  the  pitiful  and  dramatic  sequel  to  her 
courtship  and  marriage;  the  fact  that  all  in  so  short 
a  time  she  was  near  him  again,  free,  bound  by  no  ties 
except  those  of  remembrance,  affected  him  more 
deeply  than  he  cared  to  acknowledge,  even  to  himself. 
He  had  been  rather  ashamed  of  the  first  impulse  that 
had  seized  him  after  Orton's  death.  But  its  duration 
had  been  brief.  Barely  had  it  come,  before  he  crushed 
it  aside,  kneeling  by  the  stricken  man,  the  flush  of 
guilt  still  burning  his  face. 


THERE  WAS   A   CHAXdE,  AN 'EVIDENCE  OF  LIFE.— Page  376. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  337 

In  the  excitement  that  followed  Orton's  suicide, 
Callister  had  assumed  all  charge  of  affairs,  he  alone 
keeping  his  wits  about  him.  Gabrielle  was  carried 
from  his  house,  raving  with  delirium.  For  a  week  her 
life  hung  by  a  slender  thread,  ready  to  snap  short  at 
the  slightest  touch.  Then  her  youth  and  strength, 
combined  with  her  mother's  wonderful  nursing  and 
matchless  care,  conquered.  But  during  all  that  time 
of  mingled  suspense  and  uncertainty,  Callister  haunted 
the  Mason  house  like  a  ghost,  wracked  between  hope 
and  fear.  He  took  his  place  there  as  if  by  right,  and 
Mrs.  Mason  accepted  his  coming  without  a  word,  glad 
of  his  assistance,  numb  to  any  question  other  than  the 
life  of  her  daughter.  He  practically  filled  the  place  of 
a  son  to  her,  for  Randolph  seemed  utterly  lost  to  any 
demands  of  the  moment. 

For  hours  the  boy  would  sit  motionless,  sometimes 
talking  aimlessly  to  himself,  oftener  silent,  lost  to  his 
surroundings,  incapable  of  thought.  Boy  that  he  was, 
he  no  longer  looked  young.  The  shock  of  future  op- 
portunities betrayed,  past  hopes  destroyed,  the  present 
become  a  blank,  was  more  than  his  gentle,  almost 
effeminate,  nature  could  withstand.  Calamity; — irrep- 
arable calamity  forced  on  him  from  a  source  he  neither 
could  nor  would  have  hurt,  had  driven  him  into  a 
state  of  semi-imbecility. 

Quietly,  unostentatiously,  Callister  came  and  went, 
happy  in  doing,  even  indirectly,  for  the  woman  he 
had  loved  so  long  and  so  devotedly,  until  at  last  the 


338  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

day  came  when  she  was  able  to  go  out  into  the  sun- 
shine. Callister  picked  her  up  in  his  arms,  quivering 
as  he  felt  her  so  close  against  him,  not  trusting  his 
eyes  to  rest  on  her  face  that  was  upraised  to  his  own. 
When  she  was  completely  settled  and  they  were  alone, 
he  seated  himself  beside  her,  wondering  at  the  change 
he  saw.  Before  him  was  not  the  Gabrielle  of  old,  not 
the  finished  coquette,  the  girl  of  magnificent  beauty, 
who  posed  to  attract  attention,  relegating  to  herself 
the  homage  of  every  man  who  crossed  her  path. 
Beautiful  she  was  still  and  always  would  be,  but  in 
the  presence  of  such  a  sorrow  as  she  had  known,  a 
sorrow  that  had  all  but  killed  her,  the  insincerity,  the 
duplicity,  the  selfishness,  hardness  and  triviality  of  her 
nature  had  disappeared. 

She  had  met  experience,  come  in  sharp  contact  with 
the  world,  and  had  suffered — suffered  cruelly.  But 
she  had  also  learned.  And  the  knowledge  she  had  ac- 
quired had  brought  with  it  womanliness,  truth,  no- 
bility. 

Accustomed  as  he  was  to  read  human  nature,  Cal- 
lister saw  the  immense  change  even  before  she  had 
uttered  a  word.  When  she  did  speak,  she  but  con- 
firmed his  impression. 

"  I  want  to  talk  with  you,  Mr.  Callister,"  she  began, 
her  voice  vibrating  with  a  note  of  feeling  very  new  to 
her.  "  I  could  not  say  what  I  am  going  to,  to  any- 
one else  but  you.  Somehow  I  don't  think  anyone  else 
would  understand.  Neither  should  I  feel  that  I  de- 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  339 

served  your  friendship  unless  I  tried  to  explain/'  She 
stopped  suddenly. 

"  Miss  Gabrielle,  I  do  not  want  any  explanation  of 
anything.  My  friendship  for  you  does  not  rest  on 
anything  you  may  do  or  say,"  he  returned. 

"  I  know  that.  You  are  very,  very  kind  to  me.  You 
have  always  been  kinder  than  I  deserved.  But  I  want 
to  say  what's  in  my  mind.  I  have  been  thinking  and 
thinking  about  it.  Mr.  Callister,  why  did  you  just 
call  me  Miss  Gabrielle?  " 

He  looked  up,  startled,  hardly  crediting  his  ears. 
"  Why,  I  thought — I  supposed — "  he  stopped,  stam- 
mering, unable  to  continue,  not  knowing  what  to  say. 

"  That  I  wanted  to  forget,"  she  put  in.  "  Well,  I 
don't.  I  do  not  want  to  forget  one  thing.  I  want  to 
remember — him — all  that  I  have  been  through,  all 
that  I  have  learned.  Oh,"  she  cried,  "  if  you  could 
know  what  my  heart  was,  what  my  life  was  up  to  the 
very  minute  of  his  death.  I  was  a  living  monument 
of  deceit,  egotism,  selfishness.  Think,  think  what 
my  cry  was  to  those  men,  even  when  he  lay  dying. 
Think  how,  to  satisfy  my  own  outraged  pride,  I  tracked 
him.  How  I  led  a  group  of  men,  inspired  by  me  with 
desperation,  on  a  man  hunt — a  hunt  for  my  own  hus- 
band, and  I  the  wildest  one  among  them,  the  one  most 
eager  to — oh,  oh,  to  burn  him." 

"  Stop ! "  cried  Callister,  his  own  face  as  white  as 
hers.  "  Don't  recall  scenes  that  can  only  harm  you. 
Gabrielle,  Gabrielle,  any  woman  would  have  done  as 


340  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

you  did.    You  have  nothing  to  reproach  yourself  with. 
You  were  tried  beyond  a  woman's  endurance." 

"  No  woman,  no  real  woman,  would  have  done  as  I 
did.  I  was  in  fault  from  the  first.  I  was  living  a  sham 
and  a  lie  when  I  married  him.  For  I  only  pretended  to 
love  him.  It  was  never  real  love  that  I  gave.  It  was 
satisfied  pride,  vanity  appealed  to  by  his  attention,  his 
appearance,  his  manners.  I  ought  never  to  have  mar- 
ried him,  but  I  did.  I  took  him  '  for  better,  for 
worse.'  I  took  him  for  my  husband.  I  promised  him 
at  God's  altar  obedience  and  devotion.  If  I  had  been 
true  to>  myself  or  to  him,  if  I  had  possessed  any  spark 
of  firmness  or  truth  or  womanliness,  all  remembrances 
of  those  promises  could  not  have  been  swept  from  my 
mind  by  a  suspicion  of  his  birth.  For  it  was  a  sus- 
picion to  begin  with.  Afterward  I  discovered  it  for  a 
fact.  Even  then  I  should  never  have  sought  such  a 
revenge,  a  revenge  compatible  with  the  Middle  Ages. 
Perhaps  I  could  not  have  lived  with  him  after — after 
I  knew  " — she  gave  an  involuntary  shudder — "  but  I 
should  have  remembered  that  he  was  as  much  God's 
child  as  I.  Color  does  not  alter  that.  We  are  all  chil- 
dren of  the  same  Creator,  whether  our  faces  are  red, 
white,  yellow  or  black.  A  real  woman  would  have  kept 
her  sorrow  sacred;  kept  secure  her  loyalty  to  the  man 
she  called  her  husband,  at  least  before  the  world.  Oh, 
Mr.  Callister,  I  want  you  to  believe  me  sincere  in  this. 
I  have  gone  over  and  over  the  dreadful  thing,  relived 
it  and  relived  it,  and  I  am  so  ashamed — not  of  him, 


ESIIEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  341 

but  of  myself.  I  have  seen  myself  in  my  true  char- 
acter, and  it  sickens  me.  I  cannot  bear  to  have  you 
remember  me  as  I  was  or  as  you  saw  me  up  there 
that  night  at  your  house.  The  world  and  the  whole 
sense  of  things  has  changed  to  me — really  and  truly 
changed.  I  believe  I  can  be  a  true  woman  now,  and 
as  a  woman  who  may  be  worthy  of  it,  I  want  your 
friendship.  I  ask  you  for  a  friendship  that  will  begin 
now,  fresh  and  new,  not  be  carried  over  from  the  time 
that  is  past  when  I  was  beneath  a  good  man's  notice." 

Callister  had  risen  to  his  feet.  His  face  glowed. 
All  the  lines  of  care  and  sadness  that  had  marked  his 
countenance  for  years  were  obliterated  in  the  joy  that 
radiated  from  his  eyes.  What  he  had  just  heard  from 
her  lips  even  more  than  the  sight  of  her,  more  beauti- 
ful than  ever  before,  crowned  with  the  dignity  of  this 
newly-awakened  womanhood,  brought  matters  to  an 
abrupt  climax.  Her  gentleness,  her  strength,  her 
wonderful  victory  over  every  base  element  in  her  char- 
acter, but  above  all,  the  knowledge  almost  uncon- 
sciously conveyed  to  him  of  her  infinite  capacity  for  a 
love  that  had  as  yet  never  been  roused,  brought  him 
to  his  feet  with  a  cry. 

"  You  ask  my  friendship.  Gabrielle,  I  love  you. 
For  years  you  have  had  my  love,  my  worship,  my 
adoration,"  the  words  came  in  a  torrent.  "  For  years 
I  could  have  found  all  the  happiness  I  asked  in  kneel- 
ing at  your  feet  and  praying  to  you  as  I  would  pray  to 
a  saint.  I  have  loved  you  until  that  love  became  part 


342  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

of  myself.  With  every  beat  of  my  heart  I  have  cried 
your  name ;  every  thought  of  my  mind  has  been  of  you ; 
every  emotion  of  my  soul  has  had  its  existence  in  you. 
You  have  been  before  my  eyes  in  everything  I  have 
seen;  you  have  radiated  about  me,  the  very  essence  of 
love,  influencing  everything  I  have  done.  You  have 
been  life  itself  to  me  for  longer  than  I  can  tell.  I  think 
God  put  love  for  you  in  me  when  I  was  born.  I  think 
for  this  love  I  came  into  the  world. 

"  Oh,  Gabrielle,  Gabrielle,  it  is  my  turn  now  to  ask 
forgiveness.  I  had  no  right  to  speak.  It  is  not  the 
time  to  say  things  like  these.  I  should  think  o>f  you, 
not  of  myself.  But  for  so  long  you  have  been  as  one 
lost  to  me.  Just  now,  when  a  breath  of  hope  conies,  it 
is  small  wonder  I  act  like  one  beset  with  madness.  In 
all  the  violence  of  my  love  and  longing,  I  never  looked 
forward  to  a  chance  when  I  might  speak  like  this,  con- 
fessing my  love.  I  am  not  meaning  to  wrong  you  or 
hurt  you.  It  was  the  abruptness  of  knowing  that 
really,  really  you  had  never  loved.  It  roused  a  vague 
hope.  Something  came  to  me;  I  can't  explain.  It 
made  me  let  go  of  what  I  have  kept  locked  in  my  soul 
so  long.  Can't  you  see  that  I  have  loved  you  in  the 
secret  silences  of  my  being  until  I  am  hardly  respon- 
sible ?  The  very  best  of  me — yes,  and  the  worst  of  me, 
too — has  gone  into  my  love.  It  is  all  of  me.  I  think 
it  is  such  love  as  mine  that  makes  a  man  good  or  bad, 
for  I  could  commit  crime  to  win  you,  yet  having  won 
you,  no  power  could  make  me  do  evil.  Earth  would  be 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  343 

Paradise  with  your  love,  as  Heaven  would  be  empty 
without  your  presence.  I  love  you,  Gabrielle.  My 
God,  how  I  love  you !  " 

The  man  turned  away.  He  threw  an  arm  across 
his  face  to  hide  the  tears  that  he  could  not  control. 
The  reaction  from  this  outburst  had  left  him  no  longer 
master  of  himself.  He  was  quivering  from  head  to 
foot,  shaken  with  a  passion  so  intense  that  it  had  be- 
come physical  pain. 

For  so  long  Callister's  abnormal  power  for  love  had 
centered  on  this  one  object  that  it  was  tearing  at  his 
heart,  not  to  be  kept  within  the  confines  of  his  soul. 
Something  of  what  he  had  suffered  and  endured  for 
her  revealed  itself  to  the  woman  who  listened,  half 
frightened  at  the  force  and  unrestrained  violence  of 
this  usually  grave,  silent  man. 

The  adversity  that  had  softened  her  had  also  given 
her  the  ability  to  feel  and  to  sympathize.  Brusquely 
her  tired  heart  went  out  to  him  with  a  longing  she 
had  never  before  known.  She  understood  that  great 
happiness,  great  love,  great  peace  lay  for  her  in 
a  future  shared  with  this  man.  The  strength  and 
purity  of  his  love  echoed  in  her  own  breast.  With 
him  she  could  forget  the  memories  of  that  old,  selfish 
existence.  Through  him  she  could  live  down  the 
wretched  years  of  the  half  wasted  past.  Because  of 
him  and  with  his  help  she  could  reshape  her  purposeless 
life,  rewarding  him  with  the  tenderness  and  sweetness 
that  belonged  to  him  by  right  of  long-enduring  love. 


344  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

On  the  other  hand,  she  owed  something  to  Orton — 
a  certain  respect,  a  retribution  of  some  sort. 

She  turned  to  Callister.  Her  wonderful  eyes  sought 
his.  Her  fragrant  hair  bathed  in  the  sunlight  was  a 
sheen  of  burnished  gold.  A  faint  trace  of  exquisite 
pink,  the  coloring  of  a  delicate  rose,  crept  into  her 
pale,  wan  face  that  was  almost  pathetic  in  its  new 
beauty. 

"  Wait  a  little,"  she  said,  faintly.  "  I  owe  him  some- 
thing. Even  though  it  was  never  love,  even  though 
the  Gabrielle  who  married  him  and  the  Gabrielle  of 
to-day  are  two  different  beings,  still  I  owe  him — 
something.  You  have  been  patient,  very  patient. 
Wait  just  a  little  longer.  Then — perhaps.  Oh,  I  have 
never  deserved  such  love,"  she  exclaimed  suddenly,  as 
Callister,  with  an  inarticulate  cry,  threw  himself  at  her 
feet,  raising  her  hands  that  lay  unresisting  in  her  lap, 
kissing  them  with  a  reverence  as  of  something  holy. 
"  But  I  will  try  to  be  worthy — try  to  requite  you  for 
all  you  have  done,  all  you  have  given."  She  finished 
softly,  then  leaned  back  in  her  chair,  faint  from  an 
excess  of  conflicting  emotions. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  345 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

It  was  the  day  before  the  election.  Jarvis  had  re- 
turned home.  Lawler  was  expected  in  Flaremont  that 
night.  Hale  had  been  left  in  Austin  to  look  after 
Jarvis'  interest,  keep  Lawler  posted,  and  watch  the 
voting.  Lawler  had  stationed  his  adherents  the  length 
and  breadth  of  the  state  to  keep  the  voters  in  line. 

As  yet  there  had  been  no  sign  from  the  X.  &  Y. — 
not  a  move  to  show  what  their  game  was,  and  Jarvis 
at  the  eleventh  hour  could  still  preserve  a  bold  front, 
his  head  high,  maintaining  the  attitude  of  a  leader. 
The  battle  had  not  begun. 

To  have  looked  at  him,  a  casual  observer  would 
never  have  imagined  Jarvis  a  man  harassed  and 
goaded  to  his  last  stand.  He  was  intensely  quiet,  per- 
fectly natural.  His  face  may  have  been  too  white 
and  marked  with  certain  lines  that  made  him  seem 
older  than  his  years.  But  the  truth  was,  he  was  mak- 
ing the  effort  of  his  life,  the  one  thought  uppermost 
in  his  mind  being  to  preserve  his  dignity  at  whatever 
cost.  Not  by  one  sign,  one  act,  one  quiver  would  he 
suggest  his  real  feelings.  He  had  been  given  ample 
time  for  preparation  to  meet  what  was  coming.  He 
was  ready  for  the  test.  He  would  face  his  accusation 
and  his  downfall  without  a  trace  of  weakness. 


346  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

A  telegraph  instrument  had  been  put  in  his  house. 
The  operator  was  already  there.  Theo's  eyes  sparkled 
as  she  watched  these  evidences  of  Jarvis'  connection 
with  public  life. 

"  Oh,  isn't  it  splendid  ?  "  she  cried,  dancing  around 
him.  "  I  know  I  shall  sing  and  shout  all  day  to- 
morrow. How  can  you  be  so  quiet  ?  Oh,  isn't  it  all 
fine,  Bud,  dear?" 

"  Why — yes — but  you  know,  Theo,  I'd  rather  never 
have  gone  into  this  business.  I  like  just  an  ordinary, 
quiet,  every-day  sort  of  life — just  a  cozy  home — with 
you — not  a  wide-open  place  that  anyone  and  everyone 
is  at  liberty  to  walk  into,"  he  observed,  trying  to  speak 
carelessly. 

"  I  suppose  you  are  right.  It's  my  ambition  for  you 
that  makes  me  so  glad.  I  like  to  have  other  people 
value  you  as  I  do.  As  far  as  contentment  goes,  yes — 
I'm  sure  I  would  be  happier  to  live  just  quietly  by  our- 
selves, as  we  always  have.  But  there  have  to  be  public 
men,  and  " — she  drew  herself  up  proudly — "  it  is  time 
the  people  began  to  select  their  office-holders  from  the 
ranks  of  honest,  honorable  men." 

The  click  of  the  instrument  in  the  front  room  re- 
sounded through  the  house.  Messages  of  more  or  less 
importance  followed  one  another  over  the  wire  at  close 
intervals.  Jarvis  leaned  against  the  wall,  smoking 
cigarettes,  reading  the  slips  of  yellow  paper  the  oper- 
ator held  out  to  him  from  time  to  time. 

About  four  o'clock  word  came  from  Hale.    He  was 


ESIIEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  347 

detecting  traces  of  uneasiness  somewhere.  Something 
new  was  in  the  wind.  He  wanted  Lawler  at  the  wire 
as  soon  as  he  arrived  in  Flaremont. 

Not  the  slightest  change  crossed  Jarvis'  counte- 
nance. He  took  out  his  watch.  "  The  train  is  due  at 
5:10,"  he  remarked.  "I'll  telephone  the  station  and 
leave  word  with  the  agent  to  have  Lawler  drive  out 
here  directly  he  gets  in." 

After  this  matter  was  arranged,  Jarvis  called  up 
Callister,  asking  him  to  come  over  and  spend  the  even- 
ing. Callister  acquiesced  at  once,  his  voice  so  joy- 
fully exuberant  that  Jarvis,  who  knew  nothing  of  the 
affair  with  Gabrielle,  wondered. 

Less  than  fifteen  minutes  after  Hale's  message,  a 
communication  flashed  over  the  wire  from,  one  of 
Lawler's  lieutenants  in  Austin.  The  enemy  was  up 
to  something  to  turn  the  tide  in  favor  of  Meredith.  A 
distinct  uneasiness  had  been  followed  by  vague  rumors 
traceable  directly  to  the  headquarters  of  the  X.  &  Y. 
cohorts.  There  were  insinuations  that  something  was 
wrong  with  Jarvis — a  dishonorable  past.  The  mess- 
age went  on,  advising  Jarvis  to  be  ready  to  meet  and 
refute  any  libel  manufactured  by  his  opponents. 
These  opponents,  being  in  a  corner  and  knowing  it, 
would  descend  to  anything  rather  than  let  the  new 
party  win.  Jarvis  must  stand  firm,  not  lose  his  grit. 

It  took  a  moment  longer  than  was  necessary  for 
Jarvis  to  read  this  message.  His  mind  was  running 
ahead  of  the  present.  What  would  the  next  word  be? 


348  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

Step  by  step  Meredith  and  his  men  were  advancing. 
It  was  just  a  wave  of  uneasiness  now.  Gradually  that 
uneasiness  would  expand  into  vague  suspicion.  At 
the  right  moment  suspicion  would  give  way  to  open 
accusation.  Then  would  follow  proo>f,  the  possible 
challenge  to  his  party  to  investigate  the  charges. 

Investigate !  Jarvis  groaned.  The  story  Meredith 
could  tell  would  not  bear  investigation.  Fresh  calam- 
ity hung  in  every  tick  of  that  wire.  The  click  of  the 
instrument  would  yet  sound  his  doom.  With  the 
morbid  curiosity  that  prompts  a  condemned  man  to 
watch  the  erection  of  the  scaffold  on  which  his  life 
will  end,  Jarvis'  gaze  fastened  itself  on  the  telegraph 
machine  there  under  his  eyes.  For  a  moment,  and  in 
spite  of  his  iron  rigidity,  his  self-control  collapsed. 
How  Meredith  would  exult!  How  his  friends,  Law- 
ler,  Hale,  the  Masons,  Callister,  would  stand  aghast  at 
his  betrayal  of  their  confidence!  How  Theodora — • 
But  there  he  stopped,  burying  his  face  in  his  clasped 
hands.  He  would  not  think  of  Theodora.  He  could 
not  bear  it. 

Suddenly  from  all  over  the  state  messages  poured 
in.  It  was  a  cause  of  wonder  to  Jarvis,  even  in  his 
misery,  how  completely  the  men  of  the  X.  &  Y.  had 
covered  the  ground.  The  scheme  that  would  assure 
them  success  was  worked  out  with  masterly  detail. 
He  was  seeing  another  phase  of  the  trust's  controlling 
poiver;  the  vast  army  of  organized  subordinates  car- 
rying out  the  plan  of  action  concocted  and  agreed  upon 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  349 

in  the  head  offices  of  the  X.  '&  Y. — that  plan  of  action 
involving  not  only  their  political  supremacy,  but  the 
exposure  and  absolute  ruin  of  the  man  who  had  dared 
enter  the  lists  against  them. 

Callister  and  Lawler  arrived  almost  together.  Al- 
ready the  intimation  of  something  wrong  had  been 
conveyed  to  Lawler.  Tie  was  uneasy,  a  little  excited, 
but  still  unshaken  in  his  belief  of  ultimate  success. 

"  I  wish  I  could  divide  myself  into  a  dozen  men  at 
once,"  he  exclaimed.  "  Those  fellows  will  do  the  best 
they  can,  but  I  ought  to  be  all  over  the  state  from  the 
moment  the  polls  open  till  they  close.  I  knew  Mere- 
dith's backers  would  fight.  I'm  not  alarmed  at  that. 
It's  the  uncertainty  of  what  they'll  do  that  makes  us 
helpless." 

He  was  running  rapidly  over  the  pile  of  messages 
already  stacked  in  a  heap  on  the  table. 

In  the  midst  of  this  performance,  the  instrument  be- 
gan again. 

"  Where  from?  "  asked  Lawler,  turning  to  the  oper- 
ator abruptly. 

"  Austin,"  said  the  operator. 

"  From  Hale,"  muttered  Lawler,  staring  at  the 
clicking  instrument  as  though  his  eyes  could  pierce 
through  the  mysterious  sounds. 

Callister  and  Jarvis  drew  nearer.  The  silence  was 
unbroken.  No  one  stirred  or  spoke.  Jarvis  remem- 
bered the  scene  afterward.  Lawler  perturbed,  uneasy, 
his  face  set,  leaning  forward  to  watch  the  writing  of 


350  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

the  message;  Callister  tall,  erect,  untouched  by  any 
excitement  or  foreboding,  interested  in  the  events 
transpiring  only  because  they  had  to  do1  with  the  friend 
whom  he  admired;  the  operator  stolid,  intent  on  his 
work,  his  countenance  exhibiting  neither  concern  nor 
interest. 

"  Lord,  it's  a  long  one!  "  broke  in  Lawler,  shifting 
uneasily. 

Still  the  seconds  passed,  lengthening  into  minutes. 
A  clock  in  the  next  room  struck  six  times.  Theodora 
appeared  in  the  doorway,  smiling,  about  to  announce 
"  Supper."  But  something  in  the  men's  strained  at- 
titudes kept  her  silent.  The  smile  died  on  her  lips. 
She  looked  from  Lawler  to  Callister,  finally  to  Jarvis. 
He  did  not  meet  her  eyes.  His  mouth  was  drawn, 
his  whole  attitude  listless  and  desperately  weary. 
Somehow  his  face  looked  pinched.  With  the  keen 
observation  of  a  woman  who  loves,  she  could  detect 
certain  evidences  of  some  deep-seated  trouble,  some- 
thing more  than  the  excitement  or  worry  contingent 
upon  this  strenuous  campaign. 

The  operator  laid  aside  one  sheet  of  paper,  continu- 
ing the  same  message  on  a  second  piece.  With  an 
exclamation  of  impatience,  Lawler  seized  upon  the  first 
and  read  aloud: 

"  The  enemy  has  shown  its  hand.  The  Evening 
Telegram,  the  recognized  organ  of  the  X.  &  Y.,  prints 
on  its  first  page  of  the  evening  edition  a  story,  connect- 
ing Jarvis  with  two  crimes,  committed  years  ago>. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  351 

They  make  the  assertion  of  having  certain  proofs  in 
their  possession  showing  the  James  Jarvis  who  aspires 
to  the  governor's  chair  in  Texas,  is  one  Jarvis  Ken- 
nedy, a  street  waif  of  New  York,  later  a  thief,  later 
still  a  murderer — the  murderer  of — " 

The  first  sheet  was  finished.  Lawler  dropped  it. 
"  Hurry,  give  me  the  next.  Hell,  you're  slow !  "  Be- 
side himself,  the  man  leaned  towards  the  operator, 
who  still  wrote,  and  began  reading  the  words  over  the 
other  man's  shoulder: 

— "  murderer  of  Foster  Meredith,  Gilson  Meredith's 
brother.  The  article  is  well  written.  After  its  accusa- 
tion it  goes  on  with  an  appeal  to  the  citizens,  advising 
them  to  think  seriously  before  they  vote  to  put  a  thief 
and  a  murderer  into  the  highest  position  that  it  lies  in 
their  power  to  give.  The  writer  refers  to  Jarvis  as 
an  unknown  adventurer  who,  failing  to  make  an  hon- 
est living  and  having  a  gift  of  a  certain  kind  of  ora- 
tory, tours  the  state,  calling  upon  the  class  of  beings 
who  are  always  in  a  turmoil  of  discontent,  to  right 
their  wrongs  by  the  ballot,  overthrow  a  power  that 
is,  according  to  his  definition,  an  octopus  feeding  on 
the  lives  of  all  who  fall  into  its  clutches.  Then  follows 
a  eulogy  of  the  X.  &  Y.,  a  presentation  of  their  side 
of  the  oil  fight  and  a  glowing  tribute  to  Meredith. 
The  city  is  in  a  white  heat  of  excitement.  The  paper 
is  being  circulated  from  house  to  house — not  sold,  but 
given  away.  Everyone  is  reading  it.  Advise  me 
fully.  Get  a  denial  from  Jarvis  in  every  morning 
paper  that  will  print  it.  There's  no  time  to  lose.  Al- 
though the  story  is  not  altogether  believed,  the  article 
is  having  its  effect." 


352  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

"  Hell !  "  broke  in  Lawler. 

"It's  worse  than  blackmail;  it's  libel,"  exclaimed 
Callister. 

A  gasp  came  from  the  open  doorway  where  Theo 
stood. 

Before  a  question  could  be  put  to  Jar  vis,  the  wire 
was  busy  again ;  messages  following  one  another  from 
every  town  where  Lawler's  men  were  stationed,  all  to 
the  same  effect,  only  less  detailed  than  Hale's  tele- 
gram. Suddenly  the  telephone  rang.  Callister  has- 
tened out  to  answer  the  call.  He  came  back  a  mo- 
ment later,  his  face  serious,  his  eyes  angry. 

"  They  are  carrying  this  thing  too  far.  It's  out- 
rageous. Young  Mason  telephones  that  great  bundles 
of  an  early  issue  of  the  same  Evening  Telegram  that 
Hale  refers  to  came  out  on  the  express-car  of  the 
5:10  train — the  one  you  came  on,  Lawler.  From 
what  he  says,  the  paper  contains  a  duplicate  account  of 
this  political  affair,  this  accusation  against  Jarvis. 
Boys  evidently  hired  long  ago  for  the  purpose  are  dis- 
tributing copies  from  house  to  house  in  Flaremont.  It 
shows  what  they  are  doing  all  over  the  state.  By 
George,  the  affair  looks  dirty." 

"  Liars,  slanderers !  "  shouted  Lawler.  "  But  wait. 
We  ain't  downed  yet.  We'll  get  busy  now  ourselves, 
show  what  we  can  do.  They  made  a  bad  break  when 
they  offered  proof.  That  will  defeat  their  purpose. 
Now  instead  of  listening  to  messages,  we  will  send 
a  few.  The  fun  is  going  to  begin  right  now.  Jar- 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  353 

vis,  you  write  down  a  denial  of  the  charges.  It's 
silly,  of  course,  but  it's  necessary.  I'll  do  the  rest. 
Before  those  paid  liars  of  the  X.  &  Y.  are  an  hour 
older,  we'll  send  'em  the  challenge  for  proof.  We've 
plenty  of  time.  It's  only  seven  o'clock.  I'll  get  off 
a  wire  to  Hale  before  eight.  Now  then,  Jarvis,  get 
busy.  By  the  Lord  Harry,  we'll  make  'em  wish  they 
had  never  mentioned  the  word  *  proof.' ' 

"  I  cannot  understand  political  methods  like  these," 
cried  Callister. 

Theodora  moved  closer  to  Jarvis.  The  man  was 
standing  a  little  too  erect,  a  little  too  rigid;  and  again 
with  the  understanding  that  was  born  of  love,  she  saw 
what  these  other  two  did  not.  Her  eyes  widened,  half 
in  terror,  half  in  distrust.  She  was  afraid  of  she 
hardly  knew  what — a  something  she  would  not  give 
voice  to.  Callister  had  begun  to  write  at  Lawler's  dic- 
tation, both  men  busy  at  their  work.  Noticing  this, 
the  girl  bent  her  head. 

"  What  is  it?  What  is  it?  "  she  whispered.  "  You 
must  not  care  for  their  lies.  Lies  cannot  hurt  you, 
dear." 

The  man  grasped  her  arm. 

"  Suppose,"  he  whispered  in  turn — "  suppose  they 
were  not  lies." 

She  backed  away,  staring  at  him,  paling  in  sudden 
terror. 

"  Don't  torture  me  like  this !  "  she  cried,  still  keep- 
ing her  voice  lowered.  "  Oh,  oh,  what  is  going  to 


354  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

happen?  Can't  you  speak  to  me?  Can't  you  explain 
what  you  mean?  Don't  you  see  the  suspense  of  such 
a  doubt  is  more  than  I  can  endure?  " 

As  the  confession  trembled  on  his  lips,  the  operator 
held  out  another  message. 

"  Read  it,"  called  Lawler.  "  It's  probably  a  dupli- 
cate of  the  others.  I  can't  stop  to  take  it." 

The  operator  read  monotonously: 

"  Mr.  James  Jarvis, 

"  Flaremont. 

"  Before  I  yield  to  the  demands  of  my  party  and 
relinquish  the  proofs  in  my  possession  connecting  you 
with  the  murder  of  my  brother,  Foster  Meredith,  is 
there  any  statement  you  would  care  to  have  made?  I 
shall  accept  your  silence  as  a  negative. 

"(Signed)         GILSON  MEREDITH/' 

"  The  impudence !  "  cried  Callister,  indignantly. 

But  Lawler  wheeled  upon  Jarvis.  This  message 
was  more  than  he  bargained  for.  A  brusque  sensation 
of  fear  was  wrenching  his  mind  open  to  doubts,  mak- 
ing him  half  afraid  to  put  the  question  that  Jarvis 
must  answer. 

"  You  will  make  a  statement,  of  course ! "  he  de- 
manded. 

Jarvis  caught  Theo's  hand,  holding  it  tight  in  his, 
seeming  to  derive  strength  from  close  contact  with  the 
woman  he  loved.  Then  he  faced  Lawler. 

"  No,  I  do  not  intend  to  make  a  statement." 

Lawler  gazed  at  him,  amazed. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  355 

"  But  you  must.  Your  party  will  go  to  pieces, 
utterly  annihilated,  if  you  don't  speak.  You  must 
stand  by  the  cause  you  lead.  It's  in  danger.  You  see 
that?" 

Jarvis  nodded.    "  Yes,"  said  he. 

"  You  know  what  your  silence  will  be  taken  for?  " 

Again  Jarvis  bowed  his  head. 

"  Surely  you  are  not  afraid  of  the  charges?  " 

"  Not  afraid  of  them.  I  have  been  expecting  them 
too  long." 

"  For  God's  sake,  what  do  you  mean  ?  Why  should 
you,  an  innocent  man,  expect  such  calumny  as  this? 
How  can  you  sit  still  and  never  give  the  lie  to  your 
vilifiers?" 

"  I  cannot  give  the  lie.    The  charges  are  true." 

"  True!  "  Lawler  gasped.     "  Hell !  " 

"Jarvis,  my  friend,  what  do  you  mean?" 

A  low  cry  came  from  the  girl's  white  lips.  She 
looked  at  him  a  moment,  half  bewildered,  then  pressed 
closer  to  him.  After  all,  no  matter  what  he  accused 
himself  of,  he  was  still  the  man  she  loved. 

There  was  a  pause,  a  profound  silence.  Lawler 
sank  limply  into  a  chair.  Callister  and  Theo  stood 
beside  Jarvis,  uncertain  just  what  had  happened,  just 
what  to  expect,  but  determined  to  make  him  see  their 
devotion. 

Jarvis  pulled  at  the  collar  about  his  throat  as  though 
he  found  it  difficult  to  breathe.  "  There — there  has 
not  been  a  day  since  I  went  into  this  political  business 


356  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

that  I  have  not  expected  this  charge  to  be  hurled  at 
my  head,"  he  began.  "  Couldn't  you  guess  from  the 
railroad's  silence,  from  Meredith's  silence,  that  they 
held  something  back?  Did  you  dream  you  could 
nominate  me  so  easily  unless  the  railroad  wished  the 
thing  to  go  through  as  it  did  ?  Why,  you  walked  right 
down  the  path  they  laid  open — marched  up  to  the 
altar  of  sacrifice  they  had  prepared  and  gave  me  into 
their  hands,  the  living  victim  to  their  political  cere- 
mony. I  couldn't  have  won  at  any  stage  of  the  game 
if  they  had  not  wanted  me  to  win.  I  had  no  more 
chance  of  being  elected  to-morrow  than  I  have  now  of 
escaping  the  penitentiary  or  the  gallows.  The  next 
thing  that  will  happen  will  be  my  arrest.  Meredith 
doesn't  intend  that  I  shall  escape  paying  in  full  the 
price  of  my  opposition.  By  to-morrow  night  I  will  be 
jailed.  I  have  watched  it  come  step  by  step  for  weeks. 
Why,  I  have  counted  every  advance,  have  seen  my 
own  hands  literally  pulling  the  ropes  of  the  halter 
about  my  neck." 

"  In  Heaven's  name,  why  did  you  ever  go  into  the 
thing?  "  cried  Lawler. 

"  I  said  all  I  could  to  have  another  man  run  in  my 
stead.  You  wouldn't  listen  to  it.  The  others  wouldn't 
listen.  I  was  involved  in  the  campaign  before  I  had  a 
chance  to  say  no." 

"  But  if  you  had  once  hinted — "  began  Lawler. 

"That  I  was  a  thief  and  a  murderer?  Convict 
myself  before  I  knew  positively  that  the  truth  must 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  357 

come  out  ?  Tell  the  secret  that  I  had  struggled  to  live 
down?  No;  I  was  too  great  a  coward.  I  went  on, 
hoping  against  hope  until  I  saw  that  every  move  we 
made  met  with  the  ominous  silence  of  the  other  party. 
Then  I  knew  it  was  all  up.  There  wasn't  even  a  chance. 
I  had  met  that  same  silence  from  that  same  enemy 
before  in  the  organizing  of  our  company  and  building 
the  refinery.  There  was  the  same  quiet  acceptance  of 
our  doings  then  by  the  same  enemy.  I  knew  it  to  be 
the  stillness  of  doom.  Lawler,  you  should  have 
recognized  it,  too. 

"  No;  we  are  cinched  in  our  campaign  as  we  were 
in  our  legitimate  business.  You  can't  buck  against 
a  gigantic  wall  and  not  get  hurt.  Eberlie  is  perfectly 
right.  We  small  fry  dance  on  the  strings  pulled  by 
the  big  corporations.  Meredith  doesn't  care  for  me 
as  the  murderer  of  his  brother,  but  it  was  a  convenient 
episode.  I  was  after  what  he  wanted,  and  it  gave  him 
the  power  to  put  me  out  of  the  running.  I  don't  know 
what  proof  he  has,  but  it's  safe  proof;  you  can  rest 
assured  of  that.  It  was  an  easy  method  to  get  rid  of 
an  opponent.  They  didn't  even  have  to  resort  to  cor- 
rupt politics  to  down  me.  This  probably  is  as  near 
an  honest  campaign  as  they  ever  conducted.  I  feel  I 
have  not  lived  in  vain." 

The  bitterness  in  his  voice  silenced  even  Lawler. 
Callister  paced  the  floor.  Theodora,  immovable  as 
a  statue,  still  clung  to  Jarvis'  hand.  Only  the  operator 
went  calmly  on  with  his  work  at  the  instrument  that 


358  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

clicked  ceaselessly  as  message  followed  message  over 
the  wires. 

Finally  Lawler  arose.  The  thoughts  that  crowded 
in  on  him  seemed  to  be  sticking  dry  his  reason.  The 
crushing  blow  delivered  to  all  his  hopes  and  ambitions 
staggered  and  confused  him.  All  in  a  brief  instant 
ruin  was  upon  him.  He  took  his  hat,  and  muttering 
something  about  the  closeness  of  the  room,  moved 
away,  closing  the  door  after  him. 

Then  Callister  turned  to  Jarvis.  He  led  him  from 
the  room,  across  the  hall,  out  onto  the  broad,  cool 
porch,  where  the  noise  of  the  telegraph  could  not  pene- 
trate with  its  continuous,  oppressive  click  of  denuncia- 
tion. 

The  three  were  alone  together,  these  three  bound 
by  the  closest  ties  of  love  and  friendship — ties  that 
no  calumny,  no  lies,  no  slander  could  break.  Darkness 
enshrouded  them.  The  infinite  repose  of  the  earth, 
as  it  lay  cradled  in  the  embrace  of  night,  communi- 
cated itself  by  degrees  to  the  wretched  man's  troubled 
heart.  All  the  bitterness  of  regret,  the  unavailing 
anguish,  the  physical  and  mental  grief  that  had  torn 
at  him  for  months  past,  shaking  him  and  rending 
him  with  its  violence,  melted  away  before  the  peace 
and  quiet  of  this  undisturbed  night. 

A  vast  stillness  brooded  everywhere.  The  infinite 
calm  of  a  stupendous  creation  assured  of  the  omni- 
presence of  its  Creator. 

How  little  all  else  mattered  in  the  face  of  knowl- 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  359 

edge  like  that !  What  a  tremendous  lesson  old  Mother 
Earth  could  teach  to  the  children  she  housed  if  they 
would  but  listen.  The  omnipresence  of  the  Creator. 
The  omniscience  of  God.  The  omnipotence  of  the  Al- 
mighty. The  futility  of  struggles,  strifes,  hard  feeling, 
avarice,  greed.  The  necessity  of  faith,  brotherly  love, 
absolute  trust.  Doing  one's  best  in  all  seasons, 
leaving  the  rest  to  the  care  of  the  Supreme  Under- 
standing that  never  for  the  briefest  instant  forgets  or 
overlooks  the  merest  atom  fluttering  through  space. 

Through  all  eternity  the  earth,  making  no  struggle, 
sees  the  seasons  come  and  go,  bringing  alternate  storm 
and  sunshine,  each  in  its  turn  giving  of  its  kind,  the 
whole  working  in  harmony  for  the  accomplishing  of 
good.  The  stars,  the  moon,  the  sun,  swinging  to  the 
same  great  cadence  of  universal  perfection,  altering 
not  a  jot  in  their  action  because  of  the  disturbance  of 
man,  held  in  their  course  by  the  Immortal  God. 

Man  alone  seemed  rebelling  against  the  stupendous 
mystery  of  creation,  righting  blindly  through  his  ex- 
istence, stumbling  on  his  way,  denying  help.  Man 
alone  resisting  the  force  that  gives  him  life — man, 
who  of  all  things  is  the  only  one  made  in  the  image 
and  likeness  of  his  Creator.  Man,  who  in  his  steady 
march  from  the  Adam  to  the  Christ  awakens  to  his 
at-one-ment  with  the  Supreme  Being  only  on  his  self- 
made  cross  of  crucifixion. 

In  the  increasing  darkness  of  advancing  night, 
Jarvis  told  his  story  to  Callister  and  Theodora.  Told 


360  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

it  simply,  easily,  with  none  of  the  hopelessness  that 
had  characterized  him  for  so  long.  After  the  recital 
was  finished,  the  three  talked  together  till  long  past 
midnight.  A  wonderful  new  peace  came  to  Jarvis. 
He  saw  that  the  story  of  his  youthful  crimes  had  not 
estranged  his  friend.  He  saw  that  all  his  horror  and 
dread  had  been  suffered  for  no  purpose.  Theodora's 
love  had  strengthened  rather  than  failed.  What  were 
opportunities  lost,  money  sacrificed,  a  future  dark  with 
disaster,  so  long  as  love  remained? 

All  at  once,  in  the  midst  of  a  long  pause,  the  opera- 
tor appeared  at  the  doorway. 

"  I  think  you  should  have  this  message,  sir,"  he 
said  to  Jarvis.  "  Shall  I  read  it?  " 

"  If  you  will  be  so  kind,"  replied  Jarvis. 

"  It  is  from  Mr.  Hale  in  Austin  to  you : 

"  Evidently  considerable  truth  in  rumors.  I  have 
it  direct  from  headquarters  that  a  warrant  is  out  for 
your  arrest  and  will  be  served  some  time  to-morrow. 
Unless  you  are  sure  of  yourself,  be  on  your  guard." 

"  Thank  you."  Jarvis'  voice  was  quiet,  very  calm, 
very  courteous. 

But  Theodora  sprang  to  her  feet.  "Jarvis,  what 
will  happen?"  she  cried. 

"  My  arrest,  imprisonment,  later  my  trial." 

"  And  then,"  she  moaned. 

"  The  end,"  came  from  Jarvis,  barely  above  a  whis- 
per. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  361 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

And  that  was  to  be  the  end;  the  end  of  a  romance, 
finished  almost  before  it  was  begun;  the  compensation 
for  years  of  trial  and  endeavor;  the  recompense  for 
sufferings,  endurings,  strivings;  the  third  act  of  the 
drama,  bringing  it  to  a  close.  It  was  as  if  already 
the  breath  of  death  had  passed  through  the  room. 

"  No,  no,  no !  "  cried  Theodora,  beside  herself  with 
grief,  rocking  her  body  to  and  fro. 

"  There  must  be  some  way  out  of  it,"  Callister  re- 
peated again  and  again,  with  fierce  insistence.  "  Why 
not  go  away  from  here  until  the  excitement  is  over — 
then—" 

"  Then  what  ?  Cal,  do  you  think  Meredith  would 
ever  give  up?  If  I  should  escape  now,  it  would  be  all 
to  no  effect.  I  would  be  nothing  less  than  a  hiding 
criminal,  a  hunted  man  driven  from  place  to  place, 
pursuit  always  at  hand,  harried  like  some  wild  animal, 
dodging  corners,  redoubling  on  my  tracks,  recoiling 
from  my  own  shadow.  That's  what  my  life  would 
be.  Meredith  is  determined  to  put  me  out  of  the  way, 
and  he  will  persist  until  he  succeeds." 

Callister  was  silent,  looking  off  into  the  darkness 
with  unseeing  eyes. 


362  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

"  How  still  it  is !  "  murmured  Jarvis.  "  Who  could 
think  that  this  wonderful  peace  must  be  disturbed  all 
in  a  short  time,  broken  into  by  the  echoes  of  clattering 
hoofs  and  the  shouts  of  men  armed  with  the  law's 
authority?  I  have  counted  the  days  for  months  past, 
seeing  this  very  thing  at  hand;  but  now  it  has  come, 
I  am  still  unready  to  meet  it." 

Theodora  leaned  forward,  laying  her  head  on  his 
shoulder.  All  her  strength  seemed  deserting  her. 
"  Oh,  I  can't  bear  it,"  she  sobbed.  "  I  can't  bear  it !  " 
Her  body  shook  from  head  to  foot. 

Callister's  face  hardened.  "  But  you  aren't  sure  of 
Meredith's  proofs.  This  may  not  be  the  end.  Good 
Lord,  because  a  man  wants  another  convicted  of  mur- 
der is  no  sign  he  can  have  it  done.  There  are  courts, 
laws,  judges,  juries." 

"  Yes,  but  you  forget  we  are  up  against  the  trust. 
The  trust  that  controls  those  very  courts  and  laws  and 
judges  and  juries.  Meredith  is  simply  the  mouthpiece 
of  the  X.  &  Y.  The  road  is  but  the  cat's-paw  of  the 
Eastern  Petroleum  Company.  It  isn't  the  murder  of 
Foster  Meredith  that  any  of  them  care  about.  That 
is  simply  a  side  issue,  a  means  to  an  end.  I  am  to 
suffer  primarily  for  daring  to  arouse  public  feeling 
against  the  rule  of  a  certain  power  in  this  state;  be- 
cause I  succeeded  so  well  I  must  be  put  out  of  the 
way,  put  beyond  the  reach  of  repeating  the  offense. 
There  will  be  no  danger  of  an  acquittal,  rest  assured 
of  that.  They  are  sure  of  their  evidence.  It  will 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  363 

condemn.  They  wouldn't  dare  run  the  risk  of  any- 
thing else.  I  might  indeed  be  a  foe  if  public  sympathy 
were  added  to  my  popularity.  No,  Cal,  I  will  either 
swing  or  suffer  electrocution." 

At  that  word  Callister  uttered  a  cry.  The  very 
sound  rang  with  encouragement.  Why  had  he  not 
thought  of  it  before?  It  was  a  desperate  means,  but 
the  situation  was  desperate.  If  there  was  absolutely 
no  hope,  if  Jarvis  must  suffer  the  extreme  penalty  of 
the  law  for  a  murder  done  in  self-defense,  to  satisfy 
by  his  death  a  colossal  enemy  of  no  heart,  no  compunc- 
tion, no  forgiveness,  why  not  resort  to  the  only  means 
of  escape  offered? 

A  force  that  could  revive  life  in  animals  might 
safely  be  counted  on  to  compel  the  same  restoration  in 
a  human  organism.  The  principle  was  identical. 
Life  was  life. 

There  was  no  time  for  deliberation.  His  mind  con- 
centrated on  the  one  object.  Callister  turned  to  Jarvis. 
Briefly  he  explained  to  him  those  past  experiments, 
those  incomprehensible  revivifications,  those  stupen- 
dous tests  of  a  power  still  in  its  infancy,  still  so  little 
understood. 

"  At  first  I  thought  I  was  deceived.  A  hundred 
doubts  came  into  my  mind.  Was  the  dog  really  dead  ? 
I  could  not  trust  my  own  senses.  I  went  at  the  second 
experiment  afraid, — afraid  of  what  would  not  happen, 
more  afraid  of  what  would.  But  the  second  brought 
conviction.  I  succeeded  beyond  my  wildest  expecta- 


364  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

tions.  Jarvis,  I  was  not  deceived.  I  can  restore  dead 
creatures  to  life.  I  can  go  farther  than  that.  I  believe 
I  dare  attempt  the  life  of  a  human  being.  Will  you 
trust  yourself  to  me?  I  would  never  ask  such  a  dis- 
play of  supreme  confidence  did  I  not  realize  that  noth- 
ing is  left  but  a  desperate  chance.  Let  me  electrocute 
you,  report  your  death,  bring  you  secretly  to  life  and 
to — to  freedom." 

Callister's  eyes  were  glowing-  He  stood  with  one 
hand  on  Jarvis'  shoulder.  He  was  the  experimenter 
now,  the  enthusiast,  making  the  final  effort  towards 
a  tremendous  accomplishing,  arrogating  to  himself 
mysterious  powers. 

Jarvis  had  listened  with  intense  absorption.  He 
asked  a  few  questions.  Callister's  answers  seemed 
to  reassure  him. 

The  night  was  passing.  In  the  East  the  first  faint 
glory  of  approaching  day  was  shining  just  above  the 
horizon.  The  earth  stretched,  murmuring  to  the  call 
of  the  morning.  The  air  became  warm.  The  day 
of  his  undoing  had  dawned.  Jarvis  held  out  his  hand 
to  his  friend. 

"  Do  with  me  as  you  think  best.  I  am  ready  to  trust 
my  life  in  your  hands,"  he  said,  and  at  his  cry  a  daz- 
zling ray  of  sunlight  burst  over  the  edge  of  the  world 
and  fell  full  upon  his  erect  figure. 

An  hour  later  Theodora  rapped  at  Father  Beauvais' 
door.  Her  face  was  ghastly  to  her  lips.  She  stretched 
out  a  cold  hand  and  put  it  in  the  priest's. 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  365 

"  Come  with  me,"  she  said.    "  Come  with  me." 

The  priest  looked  at  her,  startled  at  her  coming,  be- 
wildered by  her  appearance.  "  What  is  it,  my  child  ? 
Tell  me  where  I  am  to  go,  what  I  am  to  do." 

"  You  are  coming  to  Callister's  house  to  marry  me," 
she  whispered,  her  voice  quivering.  "  We  must  not 
lose  a  minute.  Every  second  counts.  Mr.  Callister 
says  every  second  counts." 

The  gentle  little  man  shook  his  head,  troubled. 
"  This  is  a  strange  summons  to  a  marriage,  Theodora. 
You  are  sure,  quite  sure,  it  is  to  your  marriage, — 
that  everything  is  right  ?  " 

"Yes,  yes;  only  come." 

Gradually  she  had  drawn  him  out  to  the  phaeton 
that  had  brought  her  here.  He  could  get  no  explana- 
tion, no  further  words.  Not  understanding  what  had 
happened,  deeply  disturbed,  the  priest  took  his  seat 
beside  her,  wondering  at  the  immense  change  in  this 
girl  who  had  all  in  an  instant  grown  from  a  happy, 
care-free  child  into  a  dignified  woman,  bearing  the 
evidences  of  a  heavy  sorrow. 

Silently  they  drove  past  the  convent,  descending  the 
hill,  hurried  across  the  level  country  to  the  trail,  climb- 
ing slowly  to  the  eminence  where  Callister's  house 
perched,  forlorn  and  bare.  Once  inside,  Callister  met 
Father  Beauvais,  explaining  hastily  that  Jarvis  was 
obliged  to  go  away  on  a  long  journey.  Briefly  he  out- 
lined Theodora's  position.  She  was  in  no  way  related 
to  Jarvis,  As  a  safeguard  to  her,  this  marriage  was  a 


366  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

necessity.  More  than  this,  the  two  loved  one  another. 
There  was  no  reason  why  they  should  be  denied  mar- 
riage. On  the  contrary,  every  reason  that  they  should 
become  husband  and  wife. 

His  judgment  overruled  by  his  fondness  for  this 
girl  whom  he  had  watched  over  since  her  child- 
hood, feeling  something  was  being  withheld,  but  too 
trustful  of  Jarvis  and  too  sensitive  to  put  further 
questions,  Father  Beauvais  performed  the  marriage 
ceremony  between  Jarvis  and  Theodora.  Directly 
it  was  over,  the  little  man,  looking  like  a  miniature 
saint  in  his  white  surplice,  took  Theodora  in  his  arms. 
The  girl  was  sobbing  convulsively.  He  soothed  her 
tenderly,  murmuring  words  of  comfort,  glancing  in- 
terrogatingly at  the  two  men  who  stood  near. 

"  I  hope  I  have  done  well,"  he  faltered.  "  I  could 
not  bear  to  think  I  had  brought  sorrow  to  her.  She 
is  a  good  girl,  a  dear  child." 

But  Theodora  interrupted,  her  voice  husky,  barely 
audible.  "  He  is  all  my  world,  father.  I  could  not 
live  without  him.  He  is  my  happiness,  all — all  I  want. 
If  separation  should  come — I  must  die."  She  tried 
bravely  to  assume  some  control  of  herself,  but  the 
terrible  ordeal  yet  to  come  had  taken  all  courage  away. 

She  kissed  the  priest  good-by,  clinging  to  him  half 
in  terror,  knowing  that  his  disappearance  would  be 
the  signal  for  those  other  preparations  to  begin.  Jar- 
vis  finally  led  her  away,  all  but  fainting,  into  an  ad- 
joining room,  where  she  sat  dumb  with  fear,  staring 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  367 

at  him  with  eyes  that  had  little  understanding  in 
their  expression. 

Meanwhile  Callister  had  gone  to  the  laboratory. 
Everything  possible  had  been  done.  Word  was  left 
at  Jarvis'  house  that  on  the  arrival  of  the  officer  with 
the  warrant,  the  man  should  be  directed  to  Callister's 
as  the  place  to  find  the  one  he  sought.  Immediately 
after  the  officer's  departure,  word  was  to  be  telephoned 
ahead  of  him,  thus  giving  Callister  a  few  minutes' 
warning. 

After  considerable  deliberation,  the  electrician  had 
decided  to  have  that  officer  see  Jarvis'  dead  body. 
Such  an  announcement  made  to  Meredith  by  a  man 
in  his  pay  would  carry  conviction.  Also  it  had  been 
Callister's  wish  to  send  Theodora  to  the  Masons' 
during  the  time  of  the  fearful  ordeal.  But  wild  as  she 
was  with  anxiety  and  grief,  two  things  this  girl  had 
insisted  upon :  her  marriage,  and  her  presence  near 
the  laboratory  while  the  experiment  took  place.  She 
would  not  be  denied.  She  promised  to  be  very  quiet, 
very  obedient.  She  would  not  intrude  herself  where 
she  would  be  in  the  way.  But  stay  she  would. 

Neither  she  nor  Jarvis  heard  the  telephone  ring. 
They  paid  no  heed  to  Callister's  voice  answering  the 
call.  Close  together  in  what  he  believed  and  she  feared 
was  their  last  earthly  embrace,  they  were  unconscious 
of  everything  that  went  on  about  them.  It  was  not 
until  Callister  put  his  hand  out,  touching  Jarvis,  that 
the  man  looked  up. 


368  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

"  Come,"  said  Callister,  softly. 

Theodora,  with  a  cry  that  rang  through  the  house, 
started  up,  a  protest  of  grief  on  her  lips.  But  at  Cal- 
lister's  glance  of  warning,  she  pressed  the  back  of  her 
hand  to  her  mouth,  forcing  back  the  words,  and  stood, 
her  eyes  distended,  drawing  one  long  breath  after 
another. 

"  My  darling,  you  must  be  brave.  For  my  sake, 
dear.  Remember  it  is  only  '  adieu,'  not  good-by.  I 
am  coming  back  to  you  again." 

She  made  a  great  effort.  "  I  know,"  she  gasped. 
"  I  am  brave.  Go — oh,  go — now  quick,  or  I  can't 
let  you  leave  at  all." 

Her  face  was  like  stone.  Never  in  all  the  years  that 
followed  was  the  expression  of  that  moment's  supreme 
anguish  quite  obliterated  from  Theodora.  It  set  its 
stamp  in  her  eyes,  on  her  voice,  in  each  line  of  her 
countenance,  in  every  move,  every  curve  of  her  whole 
being.  It  was  the  transfiguration  from  lighthearted- 
ness  to  great  seriousness,  from  youth  to  age. 

Jarvis  laid  himself  down  on  the  table,  folded  his 
arms,  looked  up  into  Callister's  face  with  the  faintest 
trace  of  a  smile,  and  said  calmly,  "  I  am  quite  ready." 

Callister  could  not  answer.  By  a  great  effort  he 
was  hardening  every  emotion,  crushing  down  every 
impulse,  knowing  he  could  not  give  way  now.  He 
kept  his  station  by  the  window,  his  eyes  fixed  on  the 
road  below. 

"  We  must  wait  their  appearance,"  he  said,  finally, 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  369 

in  a  muffled  tone.  "  I  cannot  let  you  lie  any  longer 
after  that  first  shock  than  I  can  possibly  help.  When 
I  see  the  officer  coming  up  the  hill  I'll  give  it.  11 
doesn't  take  long  to — " 

Callister  stopped  short  and  gasped  at  the  word  he 
was  about  to  speak. 

"  To  kill?  "  finished  Jarvis. 

Callister  nodded. 

Silence  fell.  The  minutes  passed.  An  interminable 
wait  ensued  that  was  terrible.  The  tension  of  both 
men  was  drawn  to  the  point  of  snapping.  Every 
second  Callister  could  feel  his  courage  oozing,  his 
grip  deserting  him.  What  was  he  doing?  What  had 
he  proposed? 

Suddenly  down  the  road  rose  a  cloud  of  dust.  Not 
one  rider,  but  three  were  coming  on  rapidly.  Who 
were  they  ? 

In  absolute  quiet,  standing  motionless  by  the  window, 
Callister  watched  the  approach  of  the  men.  As  they 
drew  near  the  foot  of  the  trail,  he  uttered  an  exclama- 
tion of  satisfaction.  The  strange  man,  evidently  the 
officer  for  whom  they  waited,  was  accompanied  by 
Lawler  and  young  Mason.  There  was  no  mistaking 
the  men.  The  time  had  come. 

Callister  turned.  He  trembled  violently.  His  heart 
gave  a  lunge,  then  seemed  to  hang  poised  in  his  throat. 
There  must  be  quick  work  now.  Had  he  the  courage 
to  proceed?  Already  the  sound  of  galloping  horses 
could  be  heard  on  the  hill. 


370  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

"  Jarvis — my  friend — is  it  all  right?"  he  asked, 
in  a  voice  all  beyond  his  control. 

"  Steady — steady,  Cal — this  won't  do*.  You  are 
saving  me  from  the  hangman,  don't  forget  that,  old 
fellow.  If  I'm  worth  such  a  salvation,  go  ahead," 
Jarvis  replied. 

"  God  forgive  me  if  I  am  doing  wrong,"  muttered 
Callister,  the  words  catching  in  his  throat. 

Jarvis  closed  his  eyes.  Callister  leaned  down.  He 
grasped  the  wire.  The  electric  machine  was  throwing 
off  showers  of  blue  sparks.  A  second's  hesitation, 
then  silence. 

A  knock  on  the  door  of  the  laboratory,  followed  by 
the  sound  of  a  strange  voice  calling  on  him  to  open, 
roused  Callister.  He  straightened  up,  casting  a  last 
look  at  the  table.  Before  he  could  cross  the  room, 
Lawler  shouted  out: 

"  It's  no  use.  I've  done  all  I  could.  Mr.  Jarvis, 
Mr.  Callister,  he's  got  the  warrant  all  right.  You  will 
have  to  give  in.  I've  done  all  I  could." 

Callister  slid  back  the  bolt.  The  heavy  door,  crossed 
with  iron  braces,  swung  open.  Lawler  was  in  front. 
Close  beside  him,  the  officer.  Just  back  of  these  two, 
Randolph  and  Theodora. 

Whether  it  was  the  look  on  Callister's  face  or  the 
ominous  silence  which  greeted  their  arrival,  some  in- 
stinct of  disaster  born  of  the  moment  communicated 
itself  to  the  men.  They  stopped  short  in  their  advance, 
the  officer  shifting  awkwardly  from  one  foot  to  the 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  371 

other.  Lawler  stared  ahead  into  the  big  room ;  young 
Mason  retreated  a  couple  of  steps. 

"  Well,"  exclaimed  the  man  with  the  warrant,  "  this 
\\aitin'  ain't  gcin'  to  help  matters  along.  Mr.  Jarvis 
Kennedy,  you  might  as  well  come  out.  I  have  an  order 
here  for  your  arrest,  and  I  mean  to  serve  it." 

"  You  have  come  too  late,"  said  Callister,  in  a  low 
voice. 

"  What — skipped?  "  vociferated  the  man,  furiously, 
giving  a  start  towards  the  open  door. 

"  No— dead." 

The  words  were  followed  by  a  brief  lapse  of  horri- 
fied stillness.  Then  an  inarticulate  cry,  a  fearful 
sound  was  heard,  and  Theodora  burst  into  the  labora- 
tory. Whether  she  had  hoped  until  now  that  some- 
thing might  alter  the  necessity  of  taking  that  desperate 
chance,  or  that  something  would  occur  at  the  last 
moment  to  make  his  death  an  unneeded  prelude  to  his 
escape,  she  could  not  herself  have  told.  But  somehow 
she  had  never  expected  this.  Even  the  agony  of 
knowing  that  he  was  to  die  by  Callister's  hand  had  not 
prepared  her  for  the  sight  she  saw. 

He  lay  on  his  back,  rigid,  his  eyes  partly  open  and 
rolled  far  back  in  his  head,  his  mouth  drawn,  his  heart 
motionless,  and  his  face  so  white  that  the  skin  seemed 
made  of  paper.  There  was  no  pretense  here — no  sub- 
terfuge. Jarvis  was  dead. 

Dazed,  numbed,  she  sank  on  her  knees  beside  him, 
paying  no  heed  to  the  cries  and  exclamations  of  the 


372  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

three  men  who  had  crowded  close  around  the  table. 
That  dreadful  sight  had  driven  every  consideration 
from  her  mind. 

Lawler  pressed  forward.  The  sweat  broke  out  on 
his  forehead.  One  great  oath  passed  his  lips,  then  he 
stood  in  silent  contemplation  of  the  man  whose  life 
had  been  given  that  the  battle  of  the  people  against 
a  corporation  might  be  decided.  Young  Mason  caught 
his  breath  in  a  sharp  cry,  not  ashamed  of  the  tears 
that  filled  his  eyes  and  coursed  down  over  his  cheeks. 

But  the  officer,  after  a  moment  of  stunned  surprise, 
advanced  and  bent  over  the  rigid  body.  He  put  his 
hand  out  to  feel  of  the  heart,  to  assure  himself  of  no 
trick.  It  was  just  then  that  Theodora,  looking  up, 
caught  sight  of  him.  It  was  enough.  All  her  latent 
faculties  rose  in  a  mighty  protest. 

"  Stop !  "  she  cried,  in  a  voice  that  startled  the  officer 
and  called  the  other  men  to  their  feet.  Catching  at 
the  outstretched  hand,  she  hurled  the  man  aside. 
Then  she  rose  to  her  full  height,  a  terrible  figure. 

"  How  dare  you  enter  this  place  to  profane  the  spot 
hallowed  by  his  presence?  How  dare  you  put  out  a 
hand  to  touch  a  body  sacrificed  to  an  heroic  martyr- 
dom? You  and  your  masters  have  killed  him;  that 
should  satisfy  you.  You  have  hounded  him  to  his 
death.  You  have  taken  his  life  to  save  your  own 
future.  Is  not  that  wretched  knowledge  enough,  that 
you  come  here  to  intrude  on  our  sorrow?  Uncom- 
plainingly he  has  met  the  end  of  your  vengeance,  keep- 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  373 

ing  silent — yes,  even  dying  to  protect  you  from  the 
people's  wrath.  Does  not  even  that  fact  daunt  you  or 
check  you?  Oh,  I  have  not  his  patience.  You  will 
not  listen  to  the  cries  we  utter  for  mercy.  You  drive 
us,  ride  upon  us,  kill  us,  but  for  once  you  shall  hear 
me.  I  will  not  keep  this  silence  any  longer.  You  have 
killed  him.  You  have  had  your  say.  Now  listen  to 
me,  and  my  cry  is  the  cry  of  the  people. 

"  I  shall  curse  you  and  the  men  whose  paid  agent 
you  are,  with  every  breath  I  draw.  Morning,  noon 
and  night  I  shall  curse  you.  In  pain,  in  suffering,  in 
sorrow  I  shall  curse  you.  May  such  anguish  as  you 
have  brought  on  others  recoil  on  yourselves!  May 
such  injustice  as  you  inflict  on  the  innocent  return  to 
you  a  hundredfold!  May  no  undertaking  prosper 
with  you!  May  those  whom  you  love  and  cherish 
die  in  agony  before  your  eyes!  May  your  homes  be 
desolated  and  your  children  go  in  want!  May  God 
Himself  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  your  supplications  and  deny 
you  the  comfort  of  His  all-abiding  love!  Now,  go — 
go !  Carry  my  word  back  to  those  who  sent  you.  Go 
quickly  as  you  love  your  life,  or  I  shall  do  more  than 
curse— I  shall  kill !  " 

Her  eyes  flamed  with  semi-insanity,  her  hair  was  dis- 
heveled, her  body  trembling,  her  arms  upraised.  Like 
an  avenging  fury  she  had  uttered  her  call,  and  the  man 
whose  coming  had  made  this  tragedy  of  Jarvis'  death 
possible,  quailed  before  its  menace.  He  took  his  de- 
parture hurriedly.  Lawler  and  Mason  followed  after 


374  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

him,  horror  weighing  on  them  intolerably,  the  memory 
of  Theodora's  wild  face  haunting  them,  a  specter  not 
to  be  forgotten. 

But  immediately  they  were  gone,  the  girl  collapsed. 
The  reaction  was  as  violent  as  the  outburst  itself. 
Weeping  with  an  uncontrollable  violence,  over- 
wrought, alternately  pacing  the  floor  and  crouching 
by  the  door  that  she  would  have  guarded  with  her 
life,  she  seemed  to  have  lost  all  power  of  restraint. 

Once  Callister  started  to  go  to  her.  She  motioned 
him  back. 

"  He  needs  you.  He,  not  I.  Go  to  him.  Do  what 
you  said  3^ou  could.  My  reason,  my  life,  hangs  on  the 
result — there." 

The  time  dragged  on.  The  work  that  Callister  had 
so  dreaded  early  that  morning,  now  became  the  pivot 
of  all  his  interests,  all  his  desires,  all  his  hopes.  He 
felt  no  despair.  He  exerted  himself  to  the  limit  of 
his  understanding,  sure  of  results,  certain  of  him- 
self. The  inexplicable  influence  of  the  forces  he  was 
dealing  with,  forces  that  controlled  life,  staying  a  very 
soul  in  its  new  flight,  kept  his  thought  steadied.  It 
was  a  miracle  that  transpired  under  his  gaze;  no  one 
could  deny  that.  The  realm  of  God  was  intruded 
upon  by  an  outsider.  A  being  of  the  Almighty  was 
called  back  from  the  embrace  of  death,  his  spirit 
banished  for  the  moment  from  the  glories  of  Heaven, 
redemanded  by  the  earth. 

It  was  an  intrusion  permissible  only  through  the 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  375 

purest  motives.  A  profanation  beyond  the  confines  of 
human  rights,  that  a  wrong  might  be  righted.  The 
laws  of  limitation,  ordained  by  God,  overstepped 
that  a  life  started  on  its  way  handicapped  through 
no  fault  of  its  own,  perishing  before  its  time,  could 
enter  again  on  a  fresh  start. 

Higher  and  higher  mounted  the  sun.  The  world 
smiled  and  basked  in  its  caresses.  The  long  sweep 
of  rolling  country,  ending  at  last  only  when  the  foot 
of  those  distant  mountains  was  reached,  lay  green 
and  silent  in  a  midday  slumber,  unconscious  of  the 
strifes  that  had  taken  place  so  near.  The  drowsy 
hum  of  animal  life  filtered  into  the  grim  laboratory 
where  death  struggled  for  a  final  victory  over  a  man. 
Once  the  faintest  echo  of  the  bells  at  the  convent  came 
stealing  into  the  silent  room,  and  at  the  sound  some 
remembrance  of  a  long-practiced  custom  brought 
Theodora  to  her  knees,  crossing  herself,  her  face  up- 
raised. 

Suddenly,  in  the  midst  of  her  devotions,  the  girl 
opened  her  eyes,  brought  back  to  the  present  with  an 
abruptness  she  could  not  understand.  Quickly  she 
looked  up.  Callister  had  moved.  He  was  no  longer 
erect,  but  bending  close  to  that  rigid  figure,  his  head 
resting  against  the  other's  breast. 

For  the  moment  Theodora  stood  transfixed,  her 
wits  galloping  with  alternate  dread,  hope,  breathless 
expectancy,  unendurable  suspense. 

\Yhat  had  come — what  had  happened  ?    Surely  some 


376  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

change  to  make  Callister  look  as  he  did.  Gradually 
she  drew  nearer  the  table,  hardly  daring  to  breathe, 
listening  intently,  dizzy  with  awe. 

Stooping  over,  she  stared  for  a  second,  then  seized 
Callister's  arm,  started  to  speak,  paused,  afraid  of  her 
own  voice. 

There  was  a  change,  a  change  for  which  there 
were  no  words,  an  evidence  of  life,  returning  against 
its  will  from  a  freedom  it  desired. 

For  the  third  time  Callister  stood  on  the  brink  of  a 
manifestation  that  deprived  him  of  all  self-mastery. 
A  sense  of  shame  at  this  practice  of  blasphemy  over- 
came all  feeling  of  relief  at  the  results.  He  cried 
aloud  for  forgiveness,  grief  rising  in  his  heart,  irre- 
sistible, overflowing. 

He  had  demanded  Jarvis'  life.  All  unaided  had 
killed  his  friend.  Then  relegating  to  himself  the 
powers  of  Divinity,  had  resurrected  this  man, — re- 
called his  soul,  violating  the  performance  of  a  sublime 
mystery. 

As  he  watched  the  first  elusive  response  to  his 
work,  never  had  Callister  felt  so  keenly  the  enormity 
of  his  sin.  He  had  mutinied  against  the  Lord  God; 
doubted  the  Father's  love,  tenderness,  mercy;  pre- 
sumed to  put  himself  in  the  place  of  the  Almighty, 
in  judgment  of  what  had  occurred.  How  could  he 
expect  to  be  forgiven?  He  who  had  taken  upon  him- 
self to  interfere  with  the  march  of  events,  seeking 
to  readjust  affairs  of  good,  evil,  justice,  injustice, 


ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR  377 

oppression,  vice,  greed,  selfishness,  from  his  narrow 
standpoint  of  mortal  understanding.  He,  an  atom 
in  a  stupendous  creation  watched  over  by  an  all-power- 
ful God! 

As  Callister  remembered  these  things  he  flung 
himself  on  his  knees,  uttering  a  cry  of  contrition  and 
mental  pain. 

"  Never  again,  O  Merciful  Father,  shall  I  doubt 
Thy  wisdom.  Never  again  shall  I  set  myself  up  be- 
fore Thee  to  say  what  is  right  and  what  is  wrong. 
In  thunderings  and  earthquakes,  in  days  of  gloom, 
tribulation,  anguish  and  affliction,  You  still  behold 
us  your  children,  and  this  your  world.  And  as  Thy 
seal  of  harmony  is  set  on  all  things,  so  are  all  things 
good.  If  we  struggle  blindly,  seeing  only  darkness 
where  the  light  is,  then  scatter  the  darkness  in  our 
sight.  Oh,  Father,  teach  us  to  find  our  place  and 
keep  it,  to  know  our  duty  and  do  it.  May  our  hopes, 
not  our  fears,  predominate.  Make  us  conscious  of 
what  Thou  art, — Thou,  the  symbol  of  strength,  power, 
love  and  good.  Always  the  good." 

A  flood  of  thoughts  rushed  through  his  mind.  He 
felt  that  not  at  God's  cry  did  nations  battle  and  evils 
befall  men.  At  the  same  time  there  came  to  him  the 
true  significance  of  human  suffering,  human  turmoils, 
human  strifes.  He  saw  the  explanation  for  men's 
salvation  wrought  out  in  unspeakable  anguish;  the 
necessity  for  discouragements  in  the  perishable  things 
of  this  life,  that  the  truth  of  immortality  might  be 


378  ESHEK— THE  OPPRESSOR 

attained.  He  saw  all  fancied  griefs  fall  before  the 
deathless  joy  of  a  new  awakening,  the  birth  of  the 
spirit. 

Truth,  belief,  faith!  On  that  trinity  lay  the  foun- 
dation for  a  future,  secured  to  happiness.  Though 
the  world  fall,  man  in  his  higher  nature  will  live, — 
live  to  learn,  to  overcome,  to  know  that  as  in  Heaven 
so  is  it  on  earth.  Though  selfishness,  deceit  and  evil 
rage  about  him,  he  shall  stand  unhurt,  untouched, 
unshaken,  supreme  in  his  consciousness  that  all  things 
work  together  for  the  good,  dwelling  as  the  seers  of 
old,  with  God. 

THE  END. 


University  of  California 

SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

Return  this  material  to  the  library 

from  which  it  was  borrowed. 


REC'D  LD-UKL 

DEC  20  1989 


"..    :.:  /       '    :         •' 


SEP  25 


DUE  2  WKS  rfiuwi 


2003 


ECEIVED 


A     000128463     7 


